


Another Chance

by darlingagent



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Multi, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Civil War (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2018-08-14 05:04:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 34,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7999618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlingagent/pseuds/darlingagent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jess, a struggling inhuman, agrees to find the Winter Soldier in exchange for a quiet mind. When she realizes her captors don't have a cure, she makes a move to get herself out. She deals with some weird superheroes (and bad guys), a newly resurfaced SHIELD, and a choice that takes her to unexpected places. Who knew resorting to gas station sushi for a snack would lead to this?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"With the Hive dead, we need a new leader to bring the factions back together. With the soldier at our side once again, we will finally find the respect we've long deserved."

"I understand, but was this the best the Watchdogs could find?"

"She's weaker than the Maximoff girl, but she'll do."

"She can't be fully controlled. She's a liability."

"We'll find a way to encourage her."

Jess forced her eyes open, taking in the sight of the two men looming above her. The only light came from outside of her cell, framing their silhouettes in a vaguely ominous way. She took in a sharp breath and then gagged, the air around her heavy and thick with a strong metallic smell. It's been about a year since she changed. A year since she had a clear mind. A year since everything was taken away.

"Oh, good," one of the men said as he leaned closer to her. "You're awake."

Jess tried to growl in response, but a whimper escaped her lips instead. Her body burned, her heart ached, and her mind screamed. They tried to turn her into their next best weapon: injecting vials of liquids, sending wave after wave of electricity, and blasting blinding bursts of light into her system since they took her in.

She should have known the promise of a cure would come at a price. But even if they did have a cure, why would they fix something that isn't even broken? Despite the splitting headaches she would sometimes get, she knew the pain was just a side effect of the person she was apparently destined to be. Besides, they already took everything she cared about from her. She wasn't going to let them take the last thing she had for herself no matter how much she hated it.

"Please," she mumbled, "just shut up. I'm trying to sleep." She glared at the other man, the faceless man, mustering up the energy she had left to pierce the edges of his mind. The man hissed as his hand shot up to his temple. His reaction coaxed a weak smirk out of Jess before she felt a searing pain rip through her body. She gritted her teeth at the familiar shocks, her back arching as the waves of electricity coursed through her. Her eyes watered, the figures above her blurring for a second before she blinked and the tears fell.

"The rest of your team has been assembled, Jessabell," the faceless man said. "We will prepare you for your mission soon."

"No," Jess's voice cracked. She took in slow, deep breaths to calm her heart. As Jess recovered from the shocks sent through her, her mind flooded again with the incoherent noise she's grown familiar with since she changed. "We weren't meant for this."

"On the contrary," the other man said, "this was our destiny, Jessabell, this is our birthright." She watched as he raised his hand to her face, but he didn't touch her. He prickled her cheek with jabs of electricity, chuckling as he did so. The weaker shocks made her muscles twitch into a twisted half smile that bared her gritted teeth. "You'll understand and accept it one day."

Jess whipped her head away, sucking up the harsher pain in her neck the motion caused. She shut her eyes and fought back the tears that threatened to return.

The faceless man shook his head before addressing Jess. "You will be wiped and released when the mission is complete," he said, reaching for the belts that held Jess's limbs to the bed she laid in.

Jess sighed, releasing the breath she had been holding in. The year she spent here felt like a lifetime. The idea of being freed and seeing the outside world was so ridiculous she nearly laughed. She had an itching feeling that being wiped and released meant something a little more metaphoric than she would have liked.

"Now, come, we must evaluate you before you meet the others." With each belt he removed, the man avoided Jess's skin. She sighed as her wrists and ankles were freed from the tight bounds.

Jess glanced up at his empty face and shook her head slowly. "I don't want to," she inched her body away from the men, moving herself closer to the freezing wall at her side. She brought her knees up to her chin and hugged her legs, massaging her ankles that ached. The cold made her body shake, but she preferred that feeling more than the other man's power. The cold would never be able to numb her mind, but it was better than having it momentarily fried by a man she fiercely hated. She stared at the hands of the man who tortured her, avoiding meeting his eyes. "Why are you making us do this?"

"He's a liability, Jessabell," the faceless man replied. "He's a dangerous weapon that must be controlled—"

Jess choked out an empty laugh. "You're the ones who turned him into a weapon."

"Controlled once again to do Hydra's bidding," the other man finished.

"And that's a good thing?" she spat.

The faceless man shook his head before he took a step back. "You won't eat today if you don't follow. Just do as you're told, Jessabell," he said before reaching into his back pocket. He pulled out a pair of gloves and placed them beside Jess's hands. Jess eyed the stained gloves that were several sizes too big in disgust, but she slipped them on. She slowly tightened them by the belts around her wrists.

Jess sighed, her eyes flicking up to meet the other man's before she started lifting herself off her cot. Her vision was still a bit blurred, but she easily found the piercing blue glint. The other man moved to try and help her, but Jess swatted his arm away.

"Don't touch me," she whispered, getting up with a groan. A rush of light-headedness hit her, so she stumbled in her first few steps before her hand gripped the doorframe to steady herself. Jess took a deep breath and forced herself out of the cell, following the figure of the faceless man down the corridor.

Jess found that escaping from the cell wasn't difficult, but getting through the layers of security was basically impossible. Guards, all enhanced people like her, kept watch from every inch of the place, whatever and wherever this place was. She found her powers basically useless in her attempts at escaping. Sure, she can get a sense of what people around her were thinking and feeling and hit them with a glorified version of a brain freeze, but she could never concentrate enough with all the noise in her head. Every time she tried to find her way out, someone would catch her and bring her back kicking and screaming to the two men.

As Jess followed after the faceless man, with his brother trailing closely behind her, she kept her fingertips along the cool wall just in case she got another bout of dizziness. The guards she passed watched her, shaking their heads or giving disapproving grunts when she sent a quick hello into their mind.

The faceless man took his last turn and Jess nearly bumped into him when he stopped in front of a double door. He peered in through the yellowed windows before stepping aside.

"She's ready for you," the faceless man said, pushing the door open for Jess. Jess shot him a glare before stepping into the ward.

Jess looked around what she assumed to be some old infirmary. Beds and tables alternated along the windowless walls of the room. Her eyes fell to a velvet curtain that enclosed the center of the room. She heard shuffling behind it.

"Well this is dramatic," Jess said, calling attention to herself.

"You must be the telepath," a rough voice came from behind the curtain. A woman stepped out, carrying a number of folders and notebooks in her arms. She drew the curtains back revealing a makeshift office, like a psychiatrist's office, complete with a desk, a leather chair, and a bed. She set her belongings on the desk before motioning for Jess to take a seat on the bed in front of her.

"I have a name," Jess replied, examining the cot before settling on its edge. It was fraying and stained with yellow and brown spots. It reeked of something acidic, but was still better than her own cot in the cell. "It's Jessabell."

"It's irrelevant," the woman replied, sitting herself onto her chair. "Pirogov told me you'd be a handful, but I'm not here to waste time," she said in a gravelly voice. "So, let's make this quick, shall we?"

"Don't worry," Jess said, picking at the seams of the bed, "I want to get out ASAP, too."

"Then, tell me," the woman crossed her legs and leaned forward, getting Jess's full attention. "What do you know about the target?"

Jess sighed, having been asked this question over and over again since they told her about the mission. "Used to be Captain America's best friend or probably still is considering what's happened. Also used to be your best assassin—"

"—still our best assassin," the woman corrected.

"Well, I don't see him running around this place as your lap dog, so," Jess shrugged, but continued when the woman only glared. "Last I heard he was framed for blowing up the UN and killing the king of Wakanda." Jess looked up at the woman again, who was now going through one of the folders on her desk. "There was some talk of amnesty. Even then, he's killed a lot of innocent people."

"Good," she continued when Jess stopped talking. "So, you have no problem with locating and extracting the Winter Soldier?"

Jess laughed, actually laughed at what she said. "Oh, I do," she replied. "Wherever he is, at least Hydra isn't there to make everything worse."

"So, what is keeping you on this mission?" the woman asked, pulling out a sheet of paper from the folder.

Jess rolled her eyes. "Well, I don't have much of a choice really," she nodded at the door she entered from, "Sparky over there electrocutes me if I so much as try to sneak out to the bathroom." The door behind her lit up blue in response. "See? Always ready with the jazz hands that one."

"They told me they promised you freedom once you've located the Winter Soldier," the woman said. "And a cleared mind upon his extraction. Are you dissatisfied with your abilities?"

"You'd be a bit pissed at the Kree, too, if you had so much," she gritted her teeth and slapped her temple, "so much shit going on inside your head all at once."

Jess wanted out, wanted to go back to her life no matter how quiet and alone it was after she changed. It was better than being stuck in this hell-hole. Until the Winter Soldier was back in Hydra, she'll spend the rest of her days decaying in that rancid, rotting cot of hers. And the slight, albeit questionable, chance of quieting the noise in her head? She'll hunt down all of Captain America's friends, damn her soul in the process.

"Then, it's settled," the woman sighed, her eyes not leaving the paper she pulled out.

"What is that?" Jess questioned. The light behind the woman shined through what she held, so Jess could see it was a photocopy of an old notebook. She couldn't make out the scribbled words, the letters looked foreign and undecipherable in her eyes.

"I need you to do me a favor," the woman started, "I need you to memorize these words precisely and in this exact order."

"For what?" Jess questioned. She tried to meet the woman's eyes, tried to focus on her thoughts, but her efforts were futile.

"They're code words," the woman answered, "in case the mission is compromised and you have to abort." Jess looked at her with confusion. From what she could tell, they've been planning the mission since the first reports on the Winter Soldier bombing Vienna came in. They've been working hard on the logistics of the operation before they even brought her in. She would admire their tenacity if it weren't for the fact that they were basically modern-day Nazis. So, why even consider aborting a mission that was so dear to them and that they so arrogantly discussed occasionally in front of her? Even if things went south, they'd probably leave her and the others, whoever they were, left for dead, anyways.

"Code words?" Jess questioned again. "I mean, yeah, sure, hit me with it."

"Very well," the woman's eyes returned to the paper. She cleared her throat before speaking again. "Zhelaniye, rzhavy, semnadtsat—"

"Whoa, wait," Jess interrupted, not understanding a word she said. "What the heck did you just say?"

"Zhelaniye, rzhavy—"

"No, no, I mean I can't understand what you're saying," Jess said. "Why are the code words in Russian?"

"It doesn't matter," the woman replied, looking impatient now. "Just remember the sounds. They need to be in Russian."

Jess shook her head, giving the woman a look that easily translated to suspicion. "I can't understand let alone pronounce what you're saying."

"Then, you better hurry and learn," she replied, returning to her clipped voice. "Have they given you the tranquilizer?"

Jess shook her head.

"I'm not really comfortable with—"

"It's necessary for you to focus, isn't it?"

"Well, yeah, but," Jess wanted to explain, but she couldn't find the words. The tranquilizer quieted the noise in her head alright, but, as with all things, had a side effect. Sure, her headaches subsided, but the pain was replaced by a dizzying high that took away her sense of control. The doses started out small, but had to be increased with every injection like her body had developed some sort of resistance against it. Ever since the first injection, Jess's headaches hurt more when the effects of the tranquilizer wore off.

"But what?" the woman said, getting Jess's attention again.

"I'm afraid of what'll happen to me without it," Jess confessed. "I mean, I'm no scientist, but it's a drug. Once I get out, I'll go through some sort of withdrawal wouldn't I? Even if you wipe my mind and give me the 'cure' you apparently have, my body is still going to have to deal without the tranquilizer."

The woman nodded her head once and said, "I wouldn't worry about that. Especially when you should focus on the mission at hand." Jess caught a roll of her eyes before they returned to the paper. "Now, how is the progress on locating the Soldier?"

Jess sighed. She's been trying to find the man ever since her handlers had started to trust her. So, about a month ago.

"I haven't been able to track him down," she said with a shrug.

The woman looked at her pointedly. "You've had plenty of time to do so. What have you been doing in your cell this entire time?" she asked, her voice becoming more clipped with her frustration.

"Oh, you know, the usual: sleeping, crying, having existential crises," she answered, looking at the woman straight in the eye.

The woman sighed and shook her head. "This is not the time for your idiocy." She eyed Jess, contemplating something for a moment. "Pirogov!" she yelled, her voice clipped with her Russian accent.

The door burst open. Jess's handlers jumped into the room, one brother nearly tripping over the other.

"Yes?" they answered in unison.

"Get the girl," the woman ordered. Jess's eyes widened, taking in a deep breath as she readied herself to be taken away. When no hands came, she turned around to find the two men gone.

"Where did—"

Before Jess could finish her question, a sharp scream rang out, drowning out the rest of the noise in her head. Jess clutched her head, pulling at her hair to distract herself with a different pain than what was ripping through her mind.

"No, no, stop," Jess pleaded, shaking her head vigorously. "Don't, she's just a kid."

"Find Barnes," the woman replied, unaffected by Jess's current state.

"I can't," Jess pressed as the screams grew louder.

"You can't or you won't?" the woman hissed. "You seemed to have no trouble finding your team."

The screaming stopped with a whimper before Jess was hit with a feeling of defeat. She could feel the girl surrendering as she felt tears fall down the girl's soft, freckled face. Jess felt her own eyes well up at the girl's pain.

Jess wiped her eyes, smudging the grime on her face, before answering. "I was thinking about it and I think it's because they're my kind. The Soldier, he's, he's still human."

"A year," the woman started, "You've had a year to hone your abilities."

"Yeah, a year of torture, experiments, and abuse," Jess spat. "I definitely had plenty of time and opportunities to get this in top shape," she said with another slap to her forehead.

Before the woman could scold Jess again, the doors opened. Jess turned, her eyes heavy, to see the young girl being held tightly by her arms.

The two brothers let go of her, letting her run to Jess. She curled her body against Jess's rigid frame, hiding her face against the telepath's stomach. With each whimper and sniffle, Jess felt her anger rise.

"Jess," the girl whispered between sobs, "they gave me the needle again." Jess tightened her arms around the girl, holding her closer.

"I'm sorry," Jess whispered back, removing one of her gloves and running her hand through the girl's frizzy hair. "I'm here, I'm sorry, I won't let them touch you."

Jess shot the two men a glare before her eyes returned to the woman still sitting in front of her. The woman, looking visibly disgusted at the girls, gave Jess a crooked smile.

"Find Barnes," the woman repeated. "Or the girl will be terminated."

Jess felt the body underneath her freeze before she registered what the woman said. Through gritted teeth and a burst of energy from her anger, Jess shifted the girl behind her and lunged at the woman. Jess's body hit the desk with a thud, her free hand grabbing the woman's neck. Jess let her long, thick fingernails dig into the woman's skin, eliciting a shrill scream that Jess felt vibrate under palm.

Suddenly, before she could focus and enter the woman's mind, Jess felt a familiar pain shoot up her head from her own neck. The shock loosened Jess's grip on the woman, making her entire body go limp. Jess spasmed on the desk, watching helplessly as the faceless man brought a needle to her neck. As she slowly slipped away, Jess tried reaching out to the little girl still sobbing on the cot, but the screaming darkness in her mind took her out before she could give one last word of comfort.


	2. Chapter 2

Jess never liked running. Sure, sometimes it was necessary, but the sweat alone made her want to dive off a cliff instead. Which, apparently, she can do right now given her current circumstances.

Her hair clung to her face, partly covering her eyes as she struggled to make her way through the thick forest. Why was she running? Thorns and branches from the undergrowth sliced her burning legs, but she kept going, too afraid of what was chasing after her. She could feel it was gaining speed, closing the distance between them at an alarming rate.

Jess pushed her legs to take longer strides, causing the burning to reach up to her thighs and hips. Birds flew past her through the trees, singing, probably mocking how slow she was. Screw telepathy, why couldn't she have super speed instead?

The fog wasn't much help either. The heavy mist made it even harder to breathe, swelling up her lungs and forcing her to take short breaths. How the hell did she get here? Somehow, she didn't passed out. Yet. Adrenaline, probably.

Thankfully, Jess did have a plan. Up ahead, a black mountain, jagged and somehow reflecting the light of the sun, towered over the forest. If she could find a place to hide there, she'll be fine, right?

Through her matted hair, Jess saw the base of the mountain when the dark structures, thinner columns, came into view. Her eyes stung as the sweat blurred her vision. She blinked quickly, trying to replace the sweat with tears, but the action made it worse. She made her way through the brush, which was thinning out, clumsily now, her arms flying out occasionally to balance herself before she could trip.

As Jess got closer to the hills, she took in the sight of the entire formation. The pillars turned out to serve as a base for something even more massive. From her angle, she could make out what looked like paws. The paws, with sharp, shiny claws hanging off the edge of the hills, held up the breathtaking sculpture of a cat. No, not just a cat. A tiger?

Before Jess could confirm what kind of feline it was, a shadow fell over the bushes in front of her, taking her breath away. She turned, her foot catching on a root or a rock or maybe even just air knowing her luck, and she fell to the ground.

Jess barely registered any noise, aside from the sounds of the forest, when her pursuer landed in front of her.

Rather pathetically, Jess tried to get away, using her feet and her elbows to push herself up so she can book it. Her pursuer, his face covered by a mask, reached down to pin her arms against the ground. With her legs still free, Jess kicked at his chest, sending pain up her limbs, but the man didn't even budge.

Jess's eyes squinted against the sun, laying defeated but remained rigid, until the man shifted so his shadow shielded her view. Heart pounding against her chest, her vision became clearer. Jess realized that the mask only covered half of his face. The rest of it, well really just the skin around his eyes, was smudged with the worst case of post-crying mascara Jess had ever seen. It would've been funny if it weren't for his death glare.

His eyes had an intense focus, sending cold, blue daggers into Jess's own brown, widened pair. The stare made Jess even more uncomfortable, but she was afraid that breaking her eyes away would confirm her rising fear to the man. They stayed in that position, staring at each other until the man blinked first.

In a surprisingly soft, but firm voice, the man asked, "Who are you?"

Before Jess could answer, a sharp pain pierced her neck, her body convulsing in response as it spread through her. The man jumped away, but kept his hold on her arms, his glare dissolving into a look of concern and confusion.

Jess's dreamscape started to break, literally. She felt the soft, wet ground below her slowly harden to cold, rough metal while the green surrounding her cracked into countless blue and yellow shards like glass. The soldier's face cracked above her like a contemporary Picasso, threatening to fall apart. Suddenly, Jess remembered the reason why she was dreaming of the man or rather, why she was disturbing his own.

Jess tried to fight back the pain, tried to focus on her mind rather than her body. If she could just focus on her dream, her projection, she could save herself from this mess. The shocks were unrelenting. Jess could feel every nerve in her body scream and suffer trying to pull her back to reality. She had to hold on, concentrate for just a few more seconds and bite back at the man who tortured her mercilessly for months now.

Through gritted teeth, Jess closed her eyes, loosening her mental grasp on the masked man and carefully let herself return to her own body. Jess projected blasts of pain to her enemy, her mind struggling in the imbalance between her grip on her vision and the pull to get back to reality. She felt her torturer pull back, her attacks proving successful. Slowly, the shocks subsided.

Jess immediately slipped back into her vision, returning to the soldier's mind. She forced herself to open her heavy eyes and her sight cleared again. Jess knew she only had seconds to spare before Sparky could recover.

The soldier still hovered over her, his eyes searching hers, still intense, but less harsh.

"Hydra—" she choked out, her mouth dry. Once the word slipped out, Jess immediately regretted it. The soldier tightened his grip on her, digging her body into the soil under her, and the cold, hard look returned to his eyes. Jess shook her head and a whimper escaped her throat. "No! I'm sorry, stop, they have me. Hydra has me."

Her words had no positive effect on the man, whose own breathing now rose to almost match hers. She really should learn how to think before she speaks. It would be really helpful in situations like this.

"They're coming for you, they want you back, you need to—"

And right on time, electricity overwhelmed Jess's body once again, yanking her back. Jess struggled against the feeling again. Barnes clearly isn't trusting her after her stupid, unfinished answer to his question. Her hands tried to get a hold of the soldier's arms, but his grip restricted her. As she felt herself being pulled away, her real body screaming for her to get back, she managed out a last word, a name, to her last hope.

"Pirogov."

\---

Bucky sat in his usual place at the table across from Steve, his plate full of untouched food. They had just gotten back from their morning run with Sam who was happily filling himself up with his usual breakfast of eggs, oatmeal, and OJ. Steve stared at his best friend with concern, almost mirroring the assassin's furrowed brow and pursed lips.

"Hey, Buck," Steve started, trying to meet his eyes, "You okay?" When his question was met with silence, save for Sam's loud chewing, Steve tried again. "Bucky? You not hungry?"

Bucky continued to stare off into space. Clearly, something heavy was on his mind and Steve wanted to know what that something was.

Bucky had come a long way since T'Challa had taken them in and pooled as many resources as needed to take care of his best friend. Once his rehabilitation started, more of Bucky's memories—even ones that involved people other than Steve— slowly returned to him. Steve was there to help connect and fill in as much of the fragments as he could without making Bucky remember his old life from his point of view. Even as Bucky remembered more of his life before the fall, Steve knew his best friend won't be the same exact man from Brooklyn he had known and loved all those years ago. Somehow, through fate's twisted ways, he was back in his life. Changed, sure, but still Bucky. And Steve, a different man too, but still Steve. And Steve still loved Bucky all the same.

As Steve got lost in looking at the man across from him with affection, Sam set his glass down loudly after gulping the last of his OJ. With a sigh of contentment, Sam's gaze moved from his empty plate to the two men, not oblivious to the scene in front of him.

He crossed his arms and addressed Steve with a nod. "Trouble in paradise?"

Sam's voice snapped Bucky out of his trance, his expression instinctively turning sour. Bucky turned his gaze towards Sam, looked him straight in the eye, and said, "The bird's still here? I didn't notice."

"I wouldn't have noticed you either if it weren't for Steve eyeing you like that again."

Steve took the moment to interject, grabbing Bucky's eyes.

"Something on your mind, Buck?"

Bucky sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I had a weird dream last night." With a pointed look to his concerned friend, he added, "I'm fine, Steve."

"What happened?" Steve asked still determined to find out what was bothering him.

"It was just a dream," Bucky shrugged, "It felt a little too real that's all." His eyes flicked over to Sam who was at least trying to hide his concern.

"Sorry, guys," Sam started, taking the hint. "I gotta go wake Wanda up for some PT." Sam knew Bucky still wasn't comfortable with opening up around him, so he let the man have his space when he saw he needed it. With a nod to his friends, Sam took his plate and left.

As soon as Sam was out of the room, Bucky let go of his façade and glanced at Steve with troubled eyes. "I had a dream. There was a girl running away from me."

"Was it Rebecca, again?"

"No, no, looked nothing like her; she was older. Probably just another dame, but uhhh," Bucky paused, eyeing Steve carefully. "Does the name Pirogov sound familiar?"

Steve's eyebrows bunched up again, an annoyingly familiar sight to Bucky nowadays. "Is it Hydra? Bucky, we've talked about this," he started with a shake of his head.

Bucky pursed his lips at the man, but kept his expression soft. "It's been bugging me all morning, Steve. Can I at least ask Natal—Natasha about it?" Bucky couldn't quite shake the assassin-turned-superhero's old name from his lips. Of course, that part of his life was over now.

"I don't know," Steve shook his head, another familiar sight. "We should leave that part of your life alone, especially now that you're better and in a safer place." Steve sighed at Bucky's frustrated expression. He knew full well how difficult it was for his best friend to have to be protected, to be so vulnerable when all he wanted was to live his life and make some use out of it.

"It won't hurt to look," Bucky offered. "I can handle it."

"I'm sorry, Buck. There's nothing we can do about it."

Bucky rolled his eyes at this, losing a bit of patience.

"What?"

"I know we can do something about it. I know where you and the others have been the past few months."

Bucky crossed his arms. Steve tensed. Neither man was enjoying this particular conversation.

"I told you, finding a way to get back out there. We can't hide here for the rest of our lives, Buck."

Bucky noticed the perspiration starting to build up on Steve's temple. Sure they had just gotten back from from their morning workout, but the man didn't even break a sweat running for two hours straight.

"You're a shitty liar, Steve." Especially when it came to Bucky. "I saw the leads; you've been shutting down bases. Without me." Bucky flexed his arms, an instinctive response he was still trying to shake off.

Steve sighed and slid his hand down his face. His best friend was the greatest assassin the world has ever seen. His girlfriend was the best spy the Red Room, the KBG, and SHIELD have ever had. His partner—well the best lying Sam had ever done was keeping the Falcon a secret for five minutes, but he's still the best, too. The point is: why couldn't that skill for duplicity rub off on him?

"Look, Buck," Steve began.

Bucky immediately cut him off. "Steve. I just want to help."

Steve sighed again and ran his hand through his hair. "I—I don't know. You'll have to be cleared."

Bucky scoffed and rolled his eyes. "That never stopped you." Steve laughed, earning him a hint of amusement in Bucky's eyes.

\---

Who was she kidding? These people had no intention of keeping her alive let alone curing her once they get what they want. Jess had to get out and get out fast. They were getting impatient and frustrated and will only grow suspicious of her as time passes.

As she paced around her cell after waking up from a shock induced sleep, Jess considered her limited options. Planning an escape with the other inhumans they held was too dangerous. There was only one other person she could trust in this place, but she was so young. She was desperate to leave, but she wasn't going to risk the little girl's life on what will probably be a half-assed, futile plan.

There were so many stupid variables just for a rescue to happen, one of which was time. Only time will tell if her plan—or at least part of a plan, one that she hoped would somehow write itself as it came along—will work. Would Barnes even think twice about what happened? After all, to him it would've been just a dream. Jess lay in her cot again, replaying the events of her message in her head.

Barnes had been under Hydra's control for over 70 years, surely the guy had some run-ins with some delusional inhumans, right? If those two idiotic brothers that were supposedly her handlers had any ounce of truth in their bragging, then their family was a part of this sick regime for generations. Could their parents, their grandparents maybe, or their distant third uncle's cousin once removed have crossed paths with the Winter Soldier? Or was Jess just caving in to some sad, pathetic, blinded hope?

The Pirogovs had left in frustration after Jess told them once again she couldn't find Barnes. While she was vaguely telling the truth, she chose to leave out the details that could help them put two and two together and ultimately find the man without her help. And without the need for her powers, Jess knew she would've been dead meat. Well, more so than she already was.

When she first pushed out her consciousness into the world in search of Barnes's own, she went blindly. First of all, Jess wasn't at all informed of the logistics of her powers as the sushi failed to come with a manual on how to manage splitting headaches, block out thoughts that literally aren't your own, and find former brainwashed assassins when your life depended on it. Second, she had no connection to the man—well aside from the whole Hydra thing—neither physical nor emotional, so locating his mind among seven billion others was a bit of a pain in the ass.

Jess loved it when she had to get clever. She learned from the idiots that Barnes had gone AWOL with Captain America right after a fight with Tony Stark in Siberia when they first started giving her all the recent info on the man. Barnes was never seen again after the incident, but the good ol' Captain apparently resurfaced to break his team out of prison and went off the grid for the last time. Clearly, Barnes and the Captain found refuge in some safe, isolated place because, at this point, you had to be living in space to not know what the men looked like. Scratch that, Thor and Loki were apparently a thing, so then: you had to be living outside of the galaxy to not know their what they looked like? Anyways, very few places in the world were still truly isolated and there were even less in which Barnes and his friends could survive without some sort of help.

So, they had to be getting help from someone, right? Well, with the wounds probably still too fresh and what with the United Nations breathing down his neck, Stark was definitely the first person out even if he wanted to. According to the not-too-hushed conversations of the Pirogovs, SHIELD has been busy staying on the down low and dealing with the influx of inhumans, so they were too busy to deal with the more international conflicts. (If only she got kidnapped by them and not the assholes she had to deal with now.) But even if they wanted, SHIELD would not have risked getting involved with the Captain, not when they were still trying to rebuild their organization.

At that point, Jess knew she was getting slightly off track. Who else would offer help and keep it so low key that even Hydra couldn't find them? She considered all the tech savvy, at least vaguely shady countries that could harbor international fugitives. Then, Jess immediately crossed off the countries that insisted on being vocal and active on the world's stage, places too dangerous to hide a whole team of wanted criminals. The U.S. was too nosy, China and India too crowded, and Russia was too ridiculous. (Besides, she already checked through the winter death trap once she got into her first tranquilizer lulls.) Jess brought it down to a handful, but one country stuck out once she considered who else was involved in the whole mess.

Wakanda, a place that Jess and many others have wondered about for years as it remained hidden safely away from the world's eyes, was her best bet.

After searching through hundreds of minds, she stumbled upon her target. She let her mind slip into his. She had trespassed on Barnes's dream, something she felt totally uncomfortable with, but, well, more pressing problems were at hand.

Was it going to work? Should she have searched for some one else to help? The more she thought about it, Jess began to believe dragging Barnes into this was a mistake. Assuming he'll actually find any meaning to his dream, anyways.

Frustrated, and her mind pounding from all the work it did in the past few hours, Jess turned to her side and pressed her back to the wall behind her. She settled into the cold, numbing feeling of the wall and soon enough, exhaustion took the best of her and she fell into a deep sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Surprisingly, getting the intel from Natasha didn't take too long. Bucky knew Natasha was the best when it came to gathering information for the team, but he was impressed by how much she got just from a last name. Most of the records about Pirogov were held by the KGB, confirming Bucky's feeling that the man was Hydra, or at least had some connections to them. Steve and the others quickly went to work piecing the information together and tracking his whereabouts in the past few years.

As they worked, Bucky followed closely behind Steve, offering help and advice about Hydra's presence in Russia when he could.

"Most of the Hydra bases have been taken down there," Steve began, getting everyone's attention. Sam and Bucky flanked the captain as Wanda sat with Clint and Scott on the other side of the kitchen table. "But Bucky knows of a few underground hideouts that Pirogov could be staying at."

Scott chimed in, still fairly new to the whole Avengers business. "Wouldn't he want to stay away from any bases? Stay on the down low?"

It was Sam's turn to respond. "Well, that's the thing. When SHIELD was brought down, he did go on the down low."

"He went through a few cities around Asia," Steve interjected. "But then he went off the radar until—"

"Until we found some records of him in Manila," Sam continued.

"Nice city," Clint commented with a nod.

"Yeah," Sam replied, quirking a brow at the man. "Anyways, after that, Romanoff already gave us his last sighting, which was a parking ticket in Kiev."

"Pfft, rookie mistake," Scott said, shaking his head and nudging Wanda, asking for agreement. She only shrugged with a small smile; she's been in his place before.

"So, he must be up to something shady if he went back to Russia and went completely off the grid about a year ago," Sam said, wanting to acknowledge Lang's comment, but needing to maintain some seriousness.

Wanda, having stayed quiet through the debrief, and noticing a certain super soldier had as well, asked, "So, are we going to hit each hideout or set up surveillance first?" She was looking directly at Bucky and cleared her throat when he didn't notice. Steve gave him a soft nudge.

Bucky's eyes shot up and made contact with everyone in front of him before settling on Wanda. "Surveillance." Silence followed and before Bucky could realize they wanted him to elaborate, Sam continued for him.

"If we hit each one, he'll see us coming," the man explained, "He'll get away before we can even find out what he's doing."

"Fair enough," Clint said. "I could use the change in weather. Nat's probably lonely up there, too," he added, shooting a look at Steve. He snickered when his comment got him an eye roll from the boss.

"So, uh, are we all going?" Scott asked, looking slightly distressed, but enthusiastic as always.

Steve shook his head. "No, you and Wanda will stay here. We'll set up everything when we get there and stay for a while to keep a better eye on the hideouts. We'll send you updates and call if we need you."

"Alright, we're holding down the fort, kid!" Scott offered a high five to Wanda, which she returned with a laugh.

"You mean when you need us, Steve," Wanda corrected before the Cap continued. Steve smirked in response.

"Don't get cocky, kid," Clint said as he stood up. He reached over and ruffled her waves before he made his way to the other side of the table. Wanda rolled her eyes and, with a flick of her finger, tickled the archer's ear. The motion caused Clint to flinch, cricking his neck in the process with a yelp.

As Scott emitted a light laugh, Steve turned to Bucky and whispered, "Can we talk?"

Bucky sighed and crossed his arms, already knowing what Steve wanted to say. "I'm coming with you."

Steve's lips tightened into a thin line. He motioned for Bucky to exit the room and the pair left their team behind to talk alone.

"Buck, I think it's better if you stay here. We're just doing surveillance; we'll call if we decide to make a hit."

Bucky shook his head. "So, what, I wasn't cleared?"

Steve shrugged. "Yeah, they—the doctors—didn't think it would be a good idea either." He shrugged again and slumped against the wall of the hallway before crossing his arms.

"Did they? Did these doctors think Lang and Wanda aren't ready either?"

"Sorry, Buck, but—"

Bucky scoffed. "Come on, Steve. Lang was cleared months ago and Wanda's perfectly capable of handling herself in the field."

"You don't know that—"

There was shuffling down the hallway and the men turned to see everyone filing out of the conference room. Clint and Scott were engaged in a conversation. Wanda trailed behind them, but not before glancing at Steve.

Steve's breath hitched. "Wanda," he called after her softly, but she had turned the corner and left. Sam watched the exchanged from the door and turned to Steve.

"Come on, man," Sam started. "We talked about this." He strode over to the two men and crossed his arms, too. "You have to stop babying them. How else are they going to get back out there?" Bucky stared at Sam as he addressed Steve. Bucky wasn't all too surprised when Steve told him what Sam did before taking up the wings again. Sam knew how difficult it was to get back in touch with the world, how to find your place and purpose after having to start all over again following a life's worth of trauma and tragedy. He also knew how to treat people with those struggles and how to help them find their way back into the world. He's still an idiot though.

"I don't have a good feeling about this one," Steve explained. "I don't want to risk it until we have all the facts."

Sam took a moment to consider his words. "They're not going to be so happy with staying behind next time." With that, he nodded at Bucky and went back down the hall without another word.

After a moment of silence, Bucky sighed. "At least let me go and help with surveillance. I'll stay behind when we decide to make the hit," Bucky offered, somehow softening his voice. As stubborn as he was, Steve wasn't totally unwilling to compromise so long as it was reasonable.

Steve raised his brow. "Would you?"

"I'll take it easy my first time out if it makes you feel better," Bucky confirmed with a shrug.

Steve smiled, but shook his head with a shaky laugh. "Surveillance. That's it."

Bucky nodded. "That's it." With a glint in his eye, he relaxed his stance and strutted down the hall, Steve following closely behind.

\---

Russia is pretty damn cold. For someone who periodically went under ice for seventy years of his life, Bucky should be used to this, but turns out spending a year in a tropical paradise can really change a man. The hideout—one of Barton's assignments— was dug right through the base of a mountain. From the scraps of info circulated by the intel dump a couple of years back, Barton was able to decrypt the data. The others were going through the information as Bucky sat in the corner, warming up his metal arm by one of the generators.

His new arm was state-of-the-art; the titanium being replaced fully with vibranium making it stronger and more powerful than ever. The technology in Wakanda was way ahead of the rest of the world's, including Stark's. The engineers had asked if he wanted any new features added in. When Bucky refused, they only nodded, but Bucky sensed their disappointment. Before they left, Bucky came up with a request. He asked for a cooling system; the heat generated from his old metal arm sometimes burned his skin when he used it too much. To their vague delight and with scoffs that indicated the task was a piece of cake, they built and attached the vibranium arm a few days later. To Bucky's vague annoyance the cooling system worked a little too well.

"Shit," Steve whispered, his brows tightening closer together.

"I know," Clint agreed. "We might have to call them in."

"No, not yet," Steve said, his expression remaining unchanged.

Sam sighed. "Steve, that place looks like it's full of enhanced. We're going to need Wanda and Scott on this."

From his place, Bucky grunted a noise of agreement. "Bird-Man's right."

Steve turned his eyes from the tablet to Bucky. "Not yet," he repeated firmly.

"Steve, come on, these are Inhumans we're talking about. Who knows who's a prisoner and who's Hydra," Clint reasoned. After a brief pause, he added, "Wanda would."

"You're going to need back-up if this turns out to be a rescue," Bucky added in.

"Tin-Man's got a point."

"Let's just wait," Steve said, holding up his hand in defense. "Clint, were you able to get an estimate from the heat sensors?"

"Two dozen, maybe," Clint answered. "Walls are pretty thick."

"Movements?" Sam asked next.

"Got a few standing guard, a few blobs are pretty active, the rest stay pretty much within a ten by ten area, so I'm assuming prisoners."

"So, we're even on prisoners and Hydra?" Steve asked.

Bucky sighed, removed his arm from the generator, and stretched it. "Steve," he began, seeing right through his question. "You can't count on the prisoners to be on your side let alone fight."

"And I doubt they're in a good state to fight," Sam added. He shook his head and made a noise of amusement. "We're agreeing way too much today, Tin-Man."

Bucky rolled his eyes. "Don't get used to it."

Steve put his tablet down and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Alright, get some sleep. I'll keep watch and go through the rest," nodding at the tablet before him.

Bucky stood up and shook his head. "I'll stay up." He grabbed the tablet and leaned against the table. "Since that's my only job here."

Steve sighed and wiped his hand down his face. He was not in the mood to contest anyone, especially Bucky, any further. "Alright, you've got four hours," Steve said to Clint and Sam.

"That's double from last time," Clint commented. "Nice." The man picked up his bow and quiver, patted Bucky's shoulder, and left the room, letting out a loud yawn as he went through the corridor.

Sam made to leave next, taking care to not forget his wings in the room with Bucky for four straight hours, and motioned for Steve to follow him. With a nod to Bucky, Steve exited the room with Sam, leaving his friend behind scrolling through the tablet in silence.

Bucky didn't mind the silence. Sometimes, he preferred it. Not that he wanted to be alone, not really, but it let him relax a bit more which was always nice.

There wasn't much info left to look through, so before long Bucky set the tablet down and was left to his own thoughts. His fingers itched for something to do and Bucky started regretting not bringing his current journal along with him. Keeping record of each day of his new (new new) life helped him keep himself together as the doctors peeled back each layer of his mind and tried to figure out how to get Hydra's brainwashing out of his head.

Bucky blinked at nothing and shook his head. Remembering those earlier days of his treatment was never a good idea.

Bucky reached for the tablet again and swiped across the screen to unlock it. With curiosity and four more hours to kill, Bucky went through the internet, a new thing he never got to use until he escaped Hydra. Bouncing back and forth between articles, blog posts, and cellphone videos, Bucky took the time to look up info on Inhumans. He's sure he's met a few during the Hydra days and he'd seen news reports when he went off the grid in Bucharest, but—aside from the fact that they're enhanced—he didn't know much about them.

"What the hell," Bucky whispered, his eyes skimming over a statement by the U.S. President. Bucky was fully aware the world was different now and that a lot of things have been brought out into the open ever since Stark decided to become Iron Man. But humans with alien DNA to make them enhanced? That was too much.

More time passed and Bucky's eyes became heavy. Trying to fight the urge to sleep, he got up and stretched, muscles aching from not moving for too long. Bucky grabbed his jacket from the generator where it had been warming up and slipped it on before making his way into the hall.

The jet was quiet, save for the low hums of the vents. Bucky made his way through, stopping by the weapons room to check if the others were okay before heading to the flight deck.

To the outside world, the jet was nothing more than awkward lump in the Russian snow. To whoever was in the pilot's seat, the outside world was dark and grey and filtered by the falling sleet and snow.

Fumbling with the buttons, Bucky finally got the night vision up. He scanned the area for anything out of the ordinary, but everything was fine. Switching to the heat scanner just in case, he saw nothing else except for the faint blob in the distance they were keeping an eye on anyways. Bucky leaned back into his seat, scratching his beard with newfound frustration. He was definitely regretting not bringing a book along.

How did he—a military sniper—get so impatient? Even the Winter Soldier didn't have a problem with waiting around, sometimes with no success in a target emerging.

Back then, before Hydra, he had a job to do and people to protect: Steve and the other Howling Commandos. He was a soldier, a good soldier, an honorable one. But now? Now that everything's changed? With Steve insisting he stay on the sidelines, sometimes he felt like he's not really needed, anyways. Maybe, that's why. Maybe, that's why he's always itching to do something after getting better. Since when was he the one trying to prove someone wrong?

Bucky slumped against the chair, placing his head in his hands. Spending a year with shrinks made him way too self-analytical. If only he could just sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Okay, so that was a terrible idea.

Jess pressed her ear against her cell door, trying to make out the muffled words of the men outside. She cursed the initial effects of the tranquilizer, ironically making it hard to focus on listening to a conversation let alone intruding on someone's thoughts. One of the idiots was shouting, presumably at the other, but she couldn't even hear any responses from him.

Frustrated, Jess pushed herself off the door and crawled to the foot of her cot. She sandwiched her head between her knees, trying to focus her mind and fight the dizzying effects of the serum. She took in long, shallow breaths and counted to ten with each rise and fall of chest. As her head cleared, she slowly started to reach out with her mind. With her eyes closed shut, Jess pushed past the walls of her cell and searched for the sources of the noise outside.

"They're not ready," the one with no face tried to reason. Despite the lack of features, Jess saw a look of worry on the man's face through his brother's eyes. His skin was pursed where his lips should have been and wrinkled where his eyebrows would have met.

Jess felt a sudden wave of anger from his brother. His cheeks suddenly burning red, he turned his eyes away from the faceless man's face.

"But he's here," he said through gritted teeth. At those words the man hissed, his hand flying up to his forehead to rub at the shot of pain.

Jess gasped, out loud and in Sparky's mind. She reeled herself back from his consciousness, finding her hands gripping at the bed frame in front of her.

Before Jess could recover, she heard the sound of Sparky—outright screaming now— coming closer and closer to her cell. She was suddenly aware of her heart pounding against her chest and a wave of panic surged through her as she picked herself up off the floor. Jess scrambled into her cot and turned to the wall before shutting her eyes. She brought her breaths down to a slower, calmer pace, but her heart insisted on beating erratically against her chest.

The locks on her door clicked all at once and Jess felt the hairs on her body go up as the two men entered the cell.

"We know you're awake," the quieter brother said. Jess heard his small feet take a step forward.

Jess noisily let out the breath she didn't realize she was holding. Body still tense, she twisted herself around and forced herself to look him in the eye.

"What now?" she asked, her voice cracking from disuse. She hasn't talked to anyone, not to the man who brought her food and her injections, not to the idiots, not even to the little girl since she made contact with Barnes. "I said I can't find him."

Sparky, looking more pissed off than usual, gave her a smirk that also made him look a bit deranged.

"Looks like he found you," he said, his eyes glinting even in the dim light. Jess tried to fight back her own smirk, but failed, twisting her face into a dangerously smug look.

"Jess," the faceless one said softly, taking another step forward. "I thought we had an understanding."

Jess scoffed. She sat up slowly and crossed her legs. "I thought we did, too, but the whole kidnapping a freed man just to turn him back into a weapon again thing kinda threw me off after a while."

"Well then, what are we to do with you now?" Sparky asked, his fingers lighting up with electricity.

"Whoa, okay, put those jazz hands away, Sparky, there's no need for that," Jess said with a nervous chuckle. Clearly not having learned her lesson with the unnecessary sass, Sparky raised his hand up, seething at her.

"Brother, no," the faceless one said without turning around, his voice low.

Sparky didn't listen and, with each step he took, the glow from his hands grew brighter. He pulled his arm back, ready to strike Jess, but—before Jess could flinch—he was thrown back against the wall by an unseen force.

"I said no!" The faceless one turned towards his brother whose sparks died out as he struggled to get up from the floor. "We don't kill our own kind!"

Sparky hissed through his bared teeth as he stood up. Red in the face and boiling over with rage, he marched out of Jess's cell out of sight.

"So, you don't just somehow talk without a mouth," Jess squeaked from the corner of her cot. The faceless man turned back to her. He looked tense, too, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

Without warning, he grabbed Jess's arm and pulled her up, ignoring her protests.

"Hey! What the hell?!" Jess yelled, trying to free herself from his grip. His hand only tightened around her as he dragged her out of the cell and into the hall.

"You betrayed us," he said, an actual hint of disappointment in his voice.

"And you're surprised?" Jess asked rhetorically in response. She took in her surroundings as they passed by each cell. The guards were gone from their posts and some of the cells were opened. She couldn't get a good look inside as they rushed through the corridor, but, to her, they felt empty. "Where is everyone?"

"Prepping," the man replied.

Jess felt a knot form in her throat. She swallowed hard.

"Prep for what?" But she knew the answer.

"Go get ready, Jessabell." With that, the man opened the door just ahead of them, keeping his firm grasp on Jess's arm with his other hand reaching for her gloves. "There will be no need for these."

The man wrenched them off her hands before pushing her inside the room.

"Take some time to settle into the tranquilizer if you have to," he said, his tone tight and controlled. He disappeared behind the door of a cabinet for a second and reappeared with a bundle of clothes in his hands.

"Oh, so, we're skiing," Jess quipped, eyeing the poofy jacket on top of the pile. He handed her the clothes before letting out a heavy sigh.

"Not quite," he replied, walking out of the room, his back to the door. "I'll be waiting outside." He slipped out and shut the door, leaving Jess alone.

Well, shit. Jess stared at the change of clothes in her hands for a moment. The Winter Soldier is here. He's here and the Pirogovs are scared.

For a second, Jess felt a bit smug at the idea that she messed up the idiots' plans. Barnes is on their turf, but he's still got the upper hand by catching them off guard and having at least one inhuman on his side. He couldn't have come alone either; he must have some sort of back-up.

Jess's heart started beating a little too quickly again, but this time with a hint of excitement. This is her chance, her only chance, to escape this godforsaken place and the people it housed.

Jess took a second to take a deep breath. She closed her eyes and tried to reach out to the man standing guarding outside, testing her abilities. If she can reach out to Pirogov, then it wouldn't hurt too much to find Barnes if he's around. Jess felt her head start to heat up as her mind ached, but she kept trying. She tried to sort through the noise in her head, but there was too much. The inhumans in the facility were a raging mess of emotions and thoughts, pulling at her focus from all directions. Jess clutched at her head with her free hand, tugging at her hair in frustration. Maybe out in the snow she'll have better luck.

Hands shaking, Jess unbuttoned her jumper and wiggled out of the thin fabric. She pulled on the white pants and matching snow boots before slipping her arms into the poofy jacket. Jess zipped everything up and pulled on a new pair of gloves, reveling in their softness. Heart beating fast, Jess eyed the door before forcing herself to step forward. Her body suddenly felt heavy, but she trudged on and opened the door.

As promised, the faceless man stood right outside and was already motioning for her to follow when Jess popped her head out of the room. He was dressed in similar clothing, but with a blaring accessory. A machine gun hung over his shoulder like he somehow needed a weapon to hurt someone.

Jess shook her head before falling into step next to him.

"I thought you weren't into the whole killing thing," Jess spat, eyeing the weapon that was somehow angled perfectly to point at her head.

Pirogov huffed. "We're bringing in the asset. I'll take every precaution."

Jess shrugged. "Not like you've got a whole squad of inhumans, right?"

"Clearly, I can't trust them to follow orders."

At that, Jess snorted. "Fair enough."

They rounded a corner and Jess felt a sudden change in temperature. Up ahead, a miserable looking woman stood at the corner. As they got closer, Jess recognized her as one of the guards she used to annoy before her tranquilizer days. The woman's body radiated heat and Jess felt a pang of stress with it.

"They're ready for you," the woman stated, nodding down the hall to her left. Jess followed Pirogov and the woman to the room at the end of it.

As Jess entered, her eyes searched for a familiar set. The little girl sat cross-legged in the back behind everyone else, tears streaming down her face. Jess rushed over, ignoring the yelps and protests from the others.

"Hey, you," Jess whispered before sitting down in front of her friend. She reached over and wiped her face, feeling the warmth through her gloves. "Don't worry, we're going to be okay."

If Jess could slap herself mentally she would because God knows what was going to happen next. Even if Barnes was here to take down the Pirogovs, would he have even considered there might be prisoners? Would he even anticipate a rescue mission? The amount of hope left in Jess was too little for her to be confident in her mess of a plan. She was tired of having to fake some of her hope for her own sake, but if it could help her friend keep going, then damn it all; she'll turn into plastic.

Jess moved her hands to the girl's shoulders and rubbed them comfortingly. Behind her, a harsh voice spoke.

"Everyone, line up," Sparky ordered. Jess turned her head, glaring up at him. When their eyes met, Sparky's expression grew furious. "You two first."

Under Jess's hands, the girl froze and Jess felt the tension that had been building up break. A fresh wave of tears accompanied the wails of the girl, angering Sparky even more.

"Shut her up!" Sparky yelled, pointing a finger at the girl. Instinctively, Jess turned and shielded the girl, covering her from his view and maintaining her glare at the man. She reached behind her and laced her fingers with the little girl's.

"You're scaring her, asshole," Jess said, the shakiness in her voice betraying her. She stood up slowly nonetheless, pulling the girl up with her. Still shielding her from his view, Jess stepped past the crowd to where Sparky stood, flanked by a man Jess didn't recognize. "Who's this?" she motioned at the new face.

"Your ride." Sparky smirked and Jess wanted nothing more than to punch him in the face. Before she could act, the man grabbed her by her throat, wrenched her forward, and suddenly she was falling.

Jess felt all the air squeeze out of her lungs as she slipped through the darkness and nothing that stretched and compressed her body. As she tried to register what was happening, Jess felt a surge of panic. Her hands were still clenched tightly, but she couldn't feel anything in them. In fact, she couldn't feel anything at all as the crushing void made her body, even her mind, go numb.

Just as her lungs were about to give up trying to find air, Jess felt her body spring back to normal, her feet registering a new cold and wet feeling seeping through her boots. Jess opened her eyes to find the man still clutching at her throat. She reached up to claw at his hand and stopped short when she realized that her hands were empty. The little girl slipped from her grasp.

Jess stared at her gloved hands, horrified. As the man's hand left her throat, she felt it tighten on its own. She looked up and met his gaze.

"Where is she?" she shouted, the howling wind nearly blowing away her question. The man just shrugged and gave her a smirk that sent her blood boiling despite the biting cold. "You son of a—"

Before Jess could finish, the man's body folded in on itself and—with a powerful gust of air—he disappeared.

Jess stood frozen in her spot. Her body grew hotter and hotter as anger surged through her, tainting her frosting cheeks a deep red. She wanted to move, to unfreeze herself, to do anything, but everything just stopped. Her mind was going a million miles a minute, thinking every single thought but she couldn't focus on a single one. All she could see and all she could feel was the bone-deep cold.


	5. Chapter 5

Bucky's eyes felt heavy again. The annoying, constant beeping of the jet's systems at work only made the agonizing boredom worse. To prevent any foreign sensors from picking up their presence, Clint had put the shields up and lowered the thermostat to a low temperature that was bordering on unbearable. Then, to make it even worse, Clint got him and Sam to pile up the snow over the jet. If this thing breaks down from freezing up the systems, he's blaming Wilson.

With a rapidly cooling cup of hot chocolate in his hands, Bucky took a sip of the drink, savoring the sweetness. He kept the mug in his hand for warmth as he checked their surroundings for probably the thirtieth time today. Bucky's eyes scanned the area, looking for anything out of the ordinary. They searched lazily, his eyes starting to glaze over even as he tried to focus. He was about to switch the display back to normal when they caught his eye. Two figures appeared out of nowhere on the screen, bright red standing in stark contrast against the deep blue. Bucky jumped up from his seat, nearly spilling his drink over the dashboard.

"Steve!" he yelled, not taking his eyes away from the screen. When no answer came, he slammed his hand on the button, turning on the comms. "Damn it, wake up!"

He heard a series of yelps before the sound of heavy boots filled the deck.

"What is it?" came Clint's voice from behind him. There was a brief pause before he whispered, "Ah, shit."

Bucky turned, his expression focused, his jaw tightened.

"We got two out there," he answered, pointing his thumb at the screen behind him.

"You mean one," Sam corrected. He stifled a yawn.

"Huh?" Bucky turned back and saw the other figure was gone. "Where did—They came out of nowhere."

"Like magic?" Sam quipped from behind him. Bucky could already feel the smirk on his face.

"No," he replied with a slightly annoyed tone. "Teleportation, maybe?"

"Nice," Clint murmured as Steve and Sam made noises of agreement.

"It hasn't moved. You think it knows we're here?" Bucky sat back down with concern in his eyes. Whoever's out there wouldn't go out in the blizzard for no reason. Their cover was blown and everyone in the room knew it.

"Think it's too late to call in back up?" Clint said, looking over at Steve who was staring intently at the screen.

Without looking away, Steve answered. "We can handle this. They bring the fight to us, then we hit back hard. Take down the Pirogovs, identify the prisoners, and shut the place down."

Bucky huffed. "What, just the three of you?" He turned and nodded at Clint and Sam. "I don't mean to be rude, but—"

"No, you're right," Clint nodded. He nudged Steve. "At least let Barnes join."

Steve sighed and set his weapon down. With a pause that was too long to expect any answer, Sam and Clint shook their heads and joined Bucky.

"Go, get ready," Sam said, pushing Bucky out of his seat.

Bucky nodded, gave Clint a look that the latter took as his thank you, and rushed out to grab his gear. As he passed Steve, Bucky kept his eyes down, not wanting to see the expression on his friend's face.

He kept his stop at the weapons room short, grabbing two Glocks and as much rounds as he could fit inside his vest and pockets that already held his knives. Remembering the prisoners, Bucky slipped a handful of Widow's bites into his pocket. They were much more practical than syringes filled with tranquilizers, anyways.

Bucky pulled out a short, but sharp knife and twirled it in his hand as he walked back to the deck. He couldn't help but think he was disappointing Steve, pissing him off maybe. Things were rough, but that's just the way it was when they were still fugitives hiding from the rest of the world. He knew Steve was trying to be careful and trying to protect his team, but then what the hell were the rest of them doing with their lives? Bucky had to spend two years alone, trying to survive, not exactly living. Now, Steve, Sam, T'Challa, and the others let him have another chance to make his life worth something, to right the wrongs the Winter Soldier made. How was he supposed to just sit around and do nothing?

A piercing scream pulled Bucky out of his thoughts. His body went rigid, gun flying up parallel to his line of sight. He heard footsteps charging against the metal grates of the jet and he readied himself to fire.

"Bucky?!" He heard Steve's strained shout and he relaxed just as the three men came into view. He locked eyes with Steve and shook his head at the concern in his eyes.

"I'm fine," Bucky assured, lowering his gun.

"You sure that wasn't you screaming?" Sam asked as he pulled on his goggles, smirking.

"Shut up." Bucky rolled his eyes.

Sam, ignoring Bucky, tapped at his goggles where they hugged his temple.

"We got a few more on the radar," Sam said, losing his smirk. "One's on the move; doesn't seem to know where they're going, though."

"What's our play, Cap?" Clint asked as he adjusted his quiver.

"Stay low," he said to all of them, his gaze lingering on Bucky. "Don't engage unless they see you and attack. Sam, you're our eyes, identify the hostiles. Bucky, Clint, take the base, bring in as many prisoners as you can. I'll take the brothers."

"Steve," Bucky started with a roll of his eyes. "They're enhanced; you can't take them alone." He looked at Sam for back-up and the man only stared at Steve, clearly disapproving, but he didn't protest.

"We're already outnumbered," Steve admitted. "But we've got a chance to save some people, that's our priority." Steve nodded at Sam to take the lead. Without another word, they marched down the corridor, leaving Bucky with no choice but to follow.

Jess blinked at the snow piling up on her hands, still frozen in place. She wished she could disappear or get swept away by the blizzard. She wished she could just melt into the snow below her. Unfortunately, that wasn't her superpower. Maybe, she could fry her own brain?

Jess knew she needed to get moving. This is her one chance to get away, her only window to escape. Yet, she felt like she's already failed.

Jess shook her hands, bringing back some heat to her numbing fingers, and dusted off the snow that gathered on her jacket. Pulling her hood over her eyes, she took a step forward and her foot sunk into the snow. She took another step. And another. Slowly the heaviness on her chest lifted, her pace quickening as she braved the unrelenting winds.

There were no places to take shelter in as far as she could see. Her mind still whirred with voices and Jess tried to focus, tried to find the voice she found a few nights before. If she could find him, she could warn him about what's to come. Maybe she could still get out of this alive.

"Jessabell!" a voice came shouting behind her. Jess booked it, stifling the urge to shout in fear. She kicked up the snow behind her as she struggled to get away, leaving a flurry behind her that followed the wind. With each stride, her legs sunk deeper into the snow and made it harder to get away. Her pace slowed but she kept pushing, pumping her legs with as much energy as she could muster.

Risking a look back, Jess saw nothing but the trail she was leaving behind. Unfortunately, taking her eyes off of what was ahead of her was literally her downfall. Head still turned back, her fist slammed into something rock-solid. Jess heard the heart-stopping crack of her bones before her head met the unseen hunk of metal, knocking her unconscious to the ground.

"What was that?" Clint's head tilted to the right at the sound. It caused the men to stop in their tracks, heads whipping around and weapons at the ready.

"There's something outside," Sam said, his voice suddenly low. "It isn't moving."

Steve nodded. "I'll check it out." Before he could leave, Bucky stopped him.

"I'll go," Bucky said firmly. Sam and Clint backed off instinctively, sensing more bickering from the friends. Before Steve could argue, Bucky shook his head. "You're too loud."

Steve rolled his eyes. "I'm not—."

"Actually, he is quieter than you," Clint agreed. "One time, Lang and I were playing ping pong in the lounge and apparently he had been sitting and watching us for like an hour. I didn't notice 'til Lang stopped to go to the bathroom and nearly pissed his pants then and there."

Steve opened his mouth to protest again, but it was Sam's turn to stop him. "We're wasting time; I'll go with him," Sam offered, nodding at Bucky.

"Fantastic," Bucky murmured. If it put Steve's mind at ease and shut him up, he'll go with the bird. Steve let out a long breath and nodded again.

Bucky brushed past Steve and Clint and fell into step with Sam. They hurried down the corridor quietly and took a second at the door to brace themselves for the cold. Bucky pulled the lever as Sam positioned himself to take point. The pair jumped out of the jet and landed on the soft snow below.

The door shut behind them automatically, making Bucky cringe slightly at the loud thud. Sam motioned for Bucky to follow him. The assassin held his gun at the ready and nodded as he poked Sam's back to push him forward. With a grunt, Sam slowly led him around the jet.

Bucky's senses adjusted to his surroundings, hearing Sam's careful steps against the whistling winds.

As Bucky scanned the area behind them, he heard Sam's breathing pause for a moment. He turned back and saw Sam's hand raise, stopping Bucky in his tracks. Sam brought his finger up to his lips and made the gesture to be quiet before kneeling into the snow.

Bucky followed, leaning against the jet's side and covered Sam's back. He strained his ears against the howl of the wind. He heard the faint sound of labored breathing, growing louder as its source got closer. He was about to tell Sam, but the bird beat him to it. Sam switched on his wrist device, pulling up a picture that showed Bucky at that exact moment in his temperature signature form. Sam unwrapped the device off his wrist and slipped it on Bucky's right arm. When Sam looked away, the screen went a deep blue, save for a humanoid silhouette in the distance.

And by humanoid, Bucky used the term very loosely. Through the feed from Sam's goggles, Bucky could see uniform lumps outlining its body, giving it a plump appearance. Whatever was out there stalked its way towards them like a predator closing in on its prey. The creature moved slowly, but its size allowed it to close the distance between them relatively quickly.

"Holy shit," he heard Sam whisper softly. Bucky looked up from his wrist and his eyes narrowed. He focused in on the creature ahead of them, still in the distance, but close enough to see the details of his body. Sam's feed did not do the creature justice. The creature's lumps—which covered its entire body—opened and closed furiously to reveal hundreds of beady eyes to Sam and Bucky. Only those on the thing's torso focused straight ahead at its targets, making the pair freeze with a new wave of fear under its gaze.

Bucky shook his head and sighed. This new day and age will never stop surprising him.

"Alright, I'm calling them out," Sam whispered as he cocked his gun.

"We can take it," Bucky whispered back, stopping Sam's hand from reaching the wrist device. Below them, Bucky could feel the earth vibrate with each step the creature took, but he pressed on. "Otherwise, they'll know where we are."

"You think they don't?" Sam's eyes were covered by his goggles, but Bucky could feel them rolling at him.

"We can take it," Bucky repeated before straightening himself up from his squat and pulling Sam up with him. The creature was just a few more of its giant steps away, but it still moved so slowly that it shouldn't put up much of a fight.

Bucky, with his limited knowledge of human beings enhanced with alien DNA, was, of course, wrong.

The pair shot their rounds at the creature; the sounds of the bullets ricocheting off its skin mocked their efforts. They stood opposite each other, trapping the creature, but it barely made a difference. They aimed for the eyes, but—unlike its body—their thick lids quickly closed before any bullet could hit them.

The creature started to swing its limbs wildly, just missing Sam's head as he ducked out of the way. "You got a better plan, Ruskie?" Sam shouted over the unrelenting barrage.

Bucky growled and backed away, his gun out of ammo. He pulled out another magazine and attached it to his Glock with ease. As Bucky raised his weapon, his body suddenly lurched towards the monster, landing right at its feet.

Spitting out a mouth full of snow, Bucky scrambled away from the creature as it slowly reached for him.

"Call 'em!" Bucky yelled at Sam as he kicked some snow into one of the creature's eyes. Sam tapped at the rim of his goggles, sending a distress message to Steve and Clint.

With help on its way putting his mind at more ease, Bucky reached into his vest and pulled out one of his knives. He knew it was going to be a long shot, what with the monster flailing violently about, but Bucky threw the weapon anyway. The blade stuck itself into the corner of an eye, probably where an eye should be in the first place. All of its eyes went wide in shock. Sam took advantage of its surprise to get a few good hits into the opened orbs, weakening it further. The monster stumbled forward and Sam jumped out of the way to reach Bucky's side.

For a moment, the pair thought the creature would finally fall.

Again, they were wrong.

The creature opened his mouth and wailed, shaking the ground beneath them. He began to shake his body, eyelids blinking open and close furiously again. Bucky and Sam watched as its damaged eyes began to reform. The new tissue pushed out each bullet with a small pop, the wound closing in on itself.

"Son of a—"

The distinct sound of an explosion interrupted Sam's expletive, shaking the cliff they stood on with more power than the creature could. Bucky and Sam turned—forgetting the monster for a split second— and saw smoke rising in the direction of the base.

"Oh shit," Bucky mumbled his eyes darting to Sam who was already on his comms.

"Hawkeye! Steve!" Sam shouted, his finger tapping steadily on his earpiece. "What's your status?!" Sam glanced at Bucky and shook his head, fear etched into his face. "Their bio-readings are stable, but they're not answering."

"Damn it, Steve," Bucky cursed, shaking his head. If the man could stay away from shit without back-up, Bucky could ease up on the worrying. But no, seventy years under ice and apparently he's still an idiot. Ice probably fuels his reckless behavior, too, the little punk.

Another wail from the creature got Bucky and Sam's attention, pulling them away from their worrying. It began flailing its arms around again, forcing the pair to get on the move.

Bucky ducked under the monster, taking point to keep it away from their jet. They needed to make a move and they needed to make it now. Steve and Clint could be in deep shit and this thing was in the way of Bucky and Sam lending their help. Suddenly remembering the other nifty weapon he brought, Bucky slipped his hand into his vest, feeling his heart pound against his chest for a second.

"Get out of the way!" Bucky screamed at Sam, pulling out a handful of Widow's bites and throwing them at an unsuspecting eye. The bites stuck perfectly. There was a short pause before the buttons glowed blue and released the shocks of electricity into the creature's knee eye. Taking a few steps back, Bucky watched as its leg spasmed before the creature lost its balance and fell to the ground.

It wasn't dead, but the thing was paralyzed for now. The only movement came from its heavy breathing and the last of its muscles jerking from the Widow's bite's effects.

Bucky looked up from the creature to an impressed Sam. The bird grinned and was moving his hand up to give Bucky a thumbs up, but stopped halfway through the motion. Sam froze and Bucky's brows furrowed in confusion before Sam was sent hurtling backwards, his body hitting the jet with a thud.

"Sam!" Bucky yelled with an edge of panic in his voice. He tried to take a step forward, but found his feet were stuck to the ground. He whipped his head around as he tried to pull his feet up, sensing a new threat. Brushing the hair out of his face, Bucky's eyes locked onto a figure to his left. It was dressed in all white and would have camouflaged with the snow if it weren't for Bucky's keen eyes. It made its way towards him, its hand raised and pointed at his legs.

"Cолдат," it hissed.

"Черт побери!" Bucky mumbled under his breath. Fantastic. Now he's going to have to actually kill someone, again. Bucky stopped in his struggling and glared at the man hiding behind his hood. "отпусти меня," he said, his voice level.

"I'm afraid I cannot," the man replied in a thick accent.

"отпусти меня," Bucky repeated, pointing his metal finger at his feet. As he did this, Bucky's right hand slipped into his pocket and pulled out a knife. With a twist of his wrist, Bucky unsheathed the blade and threw it at the man in one swift move.

The man reacted instinctively, throwing his other arm out to stop the weapon in mid-air. He tilted his head to the side, his face still covered by his hood. "Я подвожу вас в, солдат."

"Можешь попробовать," Bucky growled in reply. The man huffed and lowered his hand, causing the knife to fall into the snow, away from sight.

"Where are your friends, now?" the man asked, nodding towards Sam's still unconscious body.

Bucky glared at him and bared his teeth in a tight snarl. "What did you do to them?" he asked in return, his voice gravelly and low.

"I suspect they must be preoccupied by now," he answered. Bucky's arm locked as a surge of anger rushed through him. His metal hand curled itself into a fist, ready to attack, but the enemy had fucking telekinesis. Bucky could only seethe helplessly.

The man stalked towards Bucky, taking his time with each step. Bucky felt himself slowly start to freeze. Starting from his knees, the numbing feeling crawled its way up his body, rendering his muscles and the rest of his limbs useless. Bucky watched as the man got closer, wanting nothing more than to sucker punch the asshole in the face.

Then, just as the feeling reached his neck, he felt a light tickle in the back of his head.

"Your friends are fine. Now, get ready," a voice—not his own—warned, echoing inside his head. Bucky's eyes widened in panic, still staring straight at the man, not knowing what to do.

Before he could take another step, the man suddenly slipped and his body slammed into the snow. Bucky blinked, feeling the paralyzing effects on his body quickly seep away, and peered against the onslaught of falling snow. At the man's feet, lay another figure, its head peeking out of another fluffy white hood. Bucky could see its bare hands were wrapped around the man's ankles, holding him down.

"What are you still standing there for? Stab him already!" it—she—yelled in a rushed, chattering tone.

Bucky stared at her, her voice resonating in his mind, again. It sounded familiar. "You—you were in my head…" His own voice trailed off.

\---

Jess only sighed in response. Heart beating fast against her heaving chest, she pulled up into a sitting position. Her hands still hung onto the man in front of her.

"Yeah, okay, I can explain—"

"Telepath…" Barnes mumbled, his eyes narrowing.

"Basically," she confirmed. "But also with some things extra. It's actually pretty cool minus the headaches; we can discuss it sometime, but right now we gotta—Oof!"

Something hit Jess's back, tackling her into Pirogov and knocking the air out of her. She tried to push back, but whoever was holding her down had a good grip.

"I got her," a voice behind her said. Jess struggled in his grasp, trying to get her legs out from underneath her. She tried kicking him off, but she wasn't strong enough. There weren't exactly any gym privileges back in the prison.

"Okay, I know this looks weird, so can you please just get off?" Jess asked weakly, her face being forcibly pressed into Pirogov's boot.

Jess heard Barnes clear his throat.

"Uh, Sam?"

Jess gasped. It was the Falcon.

"Holy shit. Dude, big fan," Jess said, allowing herself to show excitement in her voice.

Ignoring her comment, Barnes continued. "Sam, she took him down for me. I think she's a prisoner."

Sam didn't ease up on her.

"Still could be with him," he said with a shake of his head.

"I swear I'm on your side," Jess piped up underneath him.

Sam let out a forced laugh. "Really?"

"Really, really." She did her best to nod. Jess knew this would happen. Why would they trust her? A weird woman hyped up on adrenaline that can speak into their minds? She'd want to stay away, too. "Hey, just warning you, I think I might've fractured a few bones on the way over here, so, you know, it's probably not completely your fault if I'm looking slightly mangled, but I'd appreciate it if you loosen up a bit because I'm not feeling super—"

"Jesus Christ," Sam whispered, now loosening his arms from her shoulders.

"Cool, cool, thanks." Jess let out a ragged breath of relief. She got up into a sitting position, again, carefully stretching herself for more relief. "Still a big fan, don't worry."

"You look fine to me," Barnes, now kneeling beside her, commented.

"I don't feel fine." Jess's teeth chattered again, suddenly missing the warmth Sam's bear hug gave her. "By the way, Paul is going to get up any second, now, so we should probably get out of here."

"We?" Sam asked.

"Paul?" Barnes asked at the same time.

"Yeah, Paul," Jess nodded, slightly impatient. "Big dude, eyes all over his body, you can't miss him in a crowd." And to her word, Paul started to stir, making Sam and Bucky jump to their feet.

"I'll take them inside," Sam said, grabbing Jess's arms. He tried to pull them behind her back, but she wouldn't budge.

"Sorry, he's only down because of me," Jess explained. She lifted Pirogov's legs and gave them a shake.

In response, Barnes turned away from her and knelt down. She watched as he slipped his metal arm—the infamous Soviet star nowhere to be seen—under Pirogov's chest. With ease, he got up from his squat and lifted the man's body onto his shoulder, forcing Jess to get up with him. She groaned from the pain that shot up her legs, the rush of adrenaline from before apparently wearing off.

Jess felt an arm reach around her back, supporting her. Sam held on more gently this time and for that she was grateful. She let herself lean onto him, dropping one of Pirogov's legs. One hand should do.

Jess slid her free arm across Sam's shoulders and relieved her legs of some of the pain.

"Ready?" Barnes asked without looking back.

"Lead the way, Tin Man," Sam answered, Barnes already moving forward.

"Oh, ha ha because his arm," Jess giggled softly, tightening her death grip around Pirogov.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cолдат = Soldier
> 
> Черт побери! = Damn it!
> 
> отпусти меня = Let me go
> 
> Я подвожу вас в, Cолдат = I am bringing you in, soldier
> 
> Можешь попробовать = You can try


	6. Chapter 6

“Bucky!” Steve’s call rang out against the wind. 

Bucky’s ears perked up at the sound, a wave of relief washing over him. Steve was okay. Bucky turned slightly to eye the girl limping behind him. She had a small grin on her face.  
“Told you,” she breathed out. Sam raised his brow at her before adjusting his hold.

Bucky shook his head and turned his gaze to the direction of Steve’s voice. “We’re here!” he answered back. Bucky trudged through the snow, peering into the distance for his friend’s face. Instead of the arrogant marching man he expected to see, Bucky’s eyes focused on a limping Steve. He had his arm around Clint’s shoulders, who looked pretty beat up himself. 

As they got closer to each other, Steve’s eyes met Bucky’s and the punk’s face relaxed, the corner of his lips tugging up into a weak smile.

“You two look terrible,” Sam said, greeting the two men. Clint chuckled and stopped in his tracks to push Steve up into a standing position, still supporting him. 

“Really could’ve used your help,” Clint replied. The man was panting, tired from carrying Steve’s weight. Steve was trying his best to shift the burden onto his good leg, but the movement made him wince.

“What happened?” Bucky asked, his voice taking on a scolding tone.

“I’d ask the same,” Clint replied with a nod. “Who’re they? And why is she doing that?” 

Steve’s attention finally left Bucky for a moment and Bucky watched as the men took in the sight of the injured enhanced. His reaction was a bit comical; jaw dropping like he’d just noticed their presence. Bucky remained quiet, expecting an answer from the girl he just met for the first time. Or does that dream count as their first meeting? As his head was about to burst from thinking about the semantics of telepathy, Bucky heard struggled stuttering from behind him. He turned his head again, his brow rising in a questioning look.

“He’s—Captain—Mr. Rogers—Holy fuck,” the girl yammered, her mouth opening and closing as she stared wide-eyed at Steve. Bucky scoffed, glancing at Steve and a slightly annoyed Barton.

“It’s fine, Jesus, relax,” he heard Sam say, almost beg, to the girl.

“Uhh, this one tried to kill me,” Bucky answered and pointed at the man he was holding. “She, umm,” he motioned at the girl still stammering behind him with a nod, “saved me?”

“Nice,” Clint concluded, still looking slightly confused.

“We should talk inside,” Sam insisted, taking a step that nudged Bucky forward. With a few murmured agreements, Clint led the way to the jet’s door, grunting as he pulled Steve along with each step. Bucky opened the door for him with a few taps at Sam’s wrist device still wrapped around his arm. He offered his free shoulder to Clint and helped support Steve’s weight as they all stepped inside the warm jet. 

“Thanks, man,” Clint mumbled with a sigh, dropping his bow to the floor. They led everyone into the med-bay, Steve doing his best to carry his own weight. Bucky heard Sam still whispering to the girl, mostly pleads to stop freaking out over Steve.

Clint and Bucky carefully lowered Steve onto a bed, laying him on his back. Steve’s face twisted into a grimace once they let go, but nodded at them to leave him be as his body repaired itself.

“You sure you’re okay, old man?” Clint questioned, crossing his arms and looking concerned. 

“Just give me some time,” Steve reassured. He looked over at the girl and his brows rose, creasing his forehead. “You okay?” 

Bucky turned, giving her the same look that teetered between confused and concerned.

“Ye—Yes—Yes, sir,” she affirmed, nodding her head vigorously. “It’s fine—This is fine—I’m fine—I am A-OK—I’m—“

“Alright, let’s get you settled in, kid,” Sam finally stopped her. “Think you can work your magic without touching him?”

The girl nodded, still staring at Steve with a twinkle in her eye. “I can try,” she said, her voice getting high-pitched.

“Magic?” Steve questioned, looking to Bucky for a coherent answer.

“Telepath,” he answered with a shrug.

The girl grinned, or tried to as she bared her teeth at Steve, making Bucky uncomfortable. Her lips loosened, however, as she returned her focus on keeping the man asleep. Bucky watched as she eased her hold on his ankle, ready to catch the rest of his body once she let go. Her face scrunched up in concentration and, after a few moments, she dropped her grip on him. 

“That should do it.” Her face softened slightly and her gaze shifted up to meet Bucky’s. “Hopefully,” she added, her teeth biting down her lip with a slight cringe.

“That’s fine,” Sam remarked. He pulled down his goggles and gave Bucky a look. He motioned at the girl with a nod and Bucky could tell he still didn’t trust her. “Can you help us get him into a cell?” Sam asked her.

“Mmhmm,” she hummed in return. Bucky saw her eyes losing focus, glazing over.

“We’ll debrief afterwards,” Clint said, taking a seat next to Steve. 

“Take care of him, will you?” Bucky requested, nodding at his friend. Clint looked at him, looking bored, but nodded. Bucky thanked him and hoisted the man over his shoulder, passing Sam to lead the way to the holding cells.

“Bye, Captain!” he heard the girl call out behind him as Sam veered her out of the room with him.

Bucky hurried down the corridor and felt the man start to stir. The system quickly scanned Bucky’s body at the door and opened immediately. Bucky rushed in and threw the man’s body into the closest cell with a loud grunt. The cell’s door slammed shut and a hologram appeared out of thin air, showing the chamber’s interior. Bucky activated the extra shields and created several barriers between them he’d love to see the man try to fight out of.

Behind him, he heard a sharp shriek and he turned to see the girl tumbling into another cell.

“What the fuck?” she screamed as bars, instead of the usual solid door, locked her inside.

“I’m sorry,” Sam apologized—Bucky noticed it was genuine—and unbuckled his wings from his back. 

“Just a precaution,” Bucky explained.

“For what?” she demanded, her fist slamming against one of the bars. “I helped you guys!”

“I know,” Sam admitted. “But I can’t read minds like you.” With that, Sam tapped at the cell’s controls and began a full body medical scan before walking out the room quietly.

Bucky watched as the girl slid down the wall, body going heavy in defeat. She brought knees up and rested her chin on top of them. Her eyes began to stare at nothing in particular. 

Bucky didn’t know what to do, but he couldn’t bring himself to just leave. He turned his back to her and played with the controls, pretending to adjust the chamber’s shields. He can get the highlights of the debrief from Steve later. A long silence passed between them, making Bucky’s façade look too forced.

“So, is this how you treated a girl after she saved your life back in the ‘40s?”

“Took you that long to come up with that?” Bucky quipped back, finally stopping his tapping and turning around to face her.

“Damn,” she muttered with a small smirk. “I see Hydra didn’t wipe out the sass.”

“I’d say the same with you.” Bucky couldn’t help but smirk back and take a few steps closer to her. “You got a name?”

“Duh,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“Okay, Duh,” Bucky began.

The girl rolled her eyes again, her smirk turning into a small smile. “Oh my god, it’s Jessabell,” she said, shaking her head at him.

Bucky nodded. Jessabell. He searched through his memories, the ones from his former self and the ones from the Winter Soldier’s. He tried to recognize the name, but he came up with nothing. Nothing except that dream.

“Why did you bring me here, Jessabell?” Bucky asked before folding his arms. Her smile turned into a frown and she looked at her hands. Bucky watched as she fidgeted for a moment.

“You might not like all the details,” she admitted her eyes darting up to Bucky’s and back down to her hands.

“Try me,” Bucky said. He took a step closer, closing the gap between him and the bars, and leaned against them with his metal arm.

“Well, this thing I have—this power or whatever—it gives me some pretty intense headaches, migraines really. Obviously, I couldn’t go to a doctor for it; you’ve seen what they do to my kind, right?”

Bucky pursed his lips and nodded. He did his research. It turns out people don’t really change. It turns out the world was still afraid of anyone who was different from most.

“Yeah, well, a few weeks after I changed, these people, the Watchdogs, they took me and brought me to the Pirogovs.” She motioned at the cell across from her. 

“Wait,” Bucky stopped her. “There’s more than one?”

“Well, yeah, they’re brothers.” Jessabell raised her brow at him. “You didn’t know?”

“No.”

“That’s one of them right there, dude.” 

“Yes, I get that now.”

“Well, they said they had a cure for me and that they’ll fix me if I found you.” She paused for a moment and really avoided Bucky’s gaze this time. “And, well, I said yes.”

Bucky remained expressionless and they both mused in silence once again. With a slight grimace, Bucky said, “You did what you had to do.”

“No, no, oh god, please don’t try to excuse that,” Jessabell stressed. She finally looked up at him, biting down on her lip. “It only made a much bigger mess.” 

“How?”

She went quiet again and Bucky let her. There was no question she was suffering from guilt. Bucky can see regret from a mile away.

“They blew up the base didn’t they?” Jessabell asked, the question muffled by her hands.

“I think so,” Bucky murmured.

“Any survivors?”

“I don’t know.” He paused for a moment. “I’ll find out.” 

Jessabell looked up at him, folding her hands on top of her knees. She blinked and released the tears that welled up in her eyes. Her hand wiped at her cheeks and she mumbled solemnly, “There’s a little girl, she calls herself Rex. Frizzy hair, freckles, really cute—“

“I’ll find out,” Bucky repeated softly. 

“I’ll keep an eye on him, then.” She bit her lip again and pulled on a weak smile before her face went somber.

\---

Apparently, coming down from an adrenaline high made people really dumb and giddy. Jess decided to scold herself later for how she acted in front of Captain freaking America. For now, she had to concentrate on keeping Pirogov asleep.

She watched as Barnes left the room, leaving her alone with Pirogov. She could see his cell was surrounded by a bunch of force field type things, but she wasn’t taking any chances. It was draining her of energy, but she didn’t want this dumbass awake any time soon. Not when they were in a million-dollar looking jet and he could move shit around with his mind.

Jess couldn’t help but think about what Barnes said. Did she really have to do all that? Was it all even worth it? She was still stuck in a cell albeit a much more comfortable one. People still didn’t trust her. She couldn’t really blame them. It would be easier if she could.

No, she had to stop, she had to focus. Keeping Pirogov down was the least she could do for the superheroes in the other room.

Jess forced herself to stay awake and do away with her thoughts as the low hum of the jet and the warmth of her cell tried to send her to sleep. Ironically, she missed the feel of the cold wall of her old cell. She got up and forced herself to stand. People can’t fall asleep when they’re standing, right? Jess started to pace around her cell, looking up every once in a while to check on Pirogov’s hologram.   
She tried to clear her mind, except her efforts to keep Pirogov down, as the familiar noise in her head started up again. 

“Damn it,” she cursed. It was getting hard to focus now. Fear started to set in as she felt Pirogov’s mind start to shift. She tried to mute the activity in his brain and soothe him back to a deeper sleep, but it was as if he was fighting back. “Fucking—“

The sound of rushing air, like a pneumatic system bursting from too much pressure, stopped her latest curse and sent Jess jumping back against the wall. She opened her eyes, having closed them instinctively, and saw a familiar face before her. A sly grin was etched on the teleporter’s face, mocking her. 

“You piece of shit!” Jess screamed, her voice shrill. “Where is she?!” He only chuckled and turned away from her to inspect Pirogov’s chamber. “Answer me!”

Jess heard some shuffling behind the door before it slid open to reveal a fully armed Barnes and Wilson. Barnes looked from her to the teleporter and immediately raised his weapon at him.

“Back away from the cell,” the Falcon threatened, his gun raised at him, too. The teleporter did as he was told and took a step back, his hands raised in defense. Sam was about to lower his weapon when there was another rush of air.

The teleporter disappeared for a second, only to reappear inside Pirogov’s cell with someone else in hand. Barnes blinked, confused for a second, gun still raised, until he realized what happened.

“Hey!” Sam yelled, dropping his weapon and rushing over to the controls. He tapped away furiously, taking down each layer of security. Barnes struggled against the teleporter’s chokehold, but the man held on despite Barnes’s slaps of his metal hand.

Jess looked on, panicked. Her mind raced and she tried to slow it down. Gripping on the bars of her cell so tightly that her knuckles turned white, Jess focused in on the teleporter’s mind. She pushed out and sent the sharpest jolts of pain she could muster into his brain, causing her own mind to suffer the same agony. Jess screamed, her body aching, telling her to stop, but it was working.

The teleporter let go of his grip on Barnes and clutched at his head with his other hand. The arm that held Barnes stayed at his side and Jess felt the aches from Barnes’s effective slaps. She let him suffer further for a few seconds, making him drop down to his knees next to Pirogov’s still unconscious body. She caught the teleporter’s gaze and found some pleasure in his misery. 

“Get out,” Jess said simply into his mind. “Take that asshole with you and leave Barnes alone.”

She sent him another stab for good measure. His body convulsed before he doubled over and Jess finally set his mind free. He looked up at her, shaken and horrified, and wrapped his arm around Pirogov. Without another word, their forms were sucked away into nothing, leaving Barnes behind.

Jess stared at the space for a moment, feeling lightheaded. She did that. She actually did that.

She was going to puke now.

She lost her grip on the bars and started to sway where she stood. Her vision started to blur, the figures of Barnes and Wilson becoming vaguely colored blobs. Her hand felt up her face, looking for her temple, but stopped to feel something warm and wet under her nose. Jess stumbled backwards and felt for the wall behind her, but she slipped, sending her consciousness down with her.

-

“Just because she saved your life, doesn’t mean we should trust her.”

“You’re starting to sound like Natasha.”

“You know, you could learn a thing or two from her, kid.”

“Shhh! She’s waking.”

Jess groaned before blinking her eyes open, flinching at the light a few times as they adjusted to the brightness. She tried to shield her eyes with her hand, but something stopped her wrist. Acting on instinct, Jess pulled on the restraints and found her ankles were tied up, too. She squirmed where she laid, a cold sweat covering her body that agitated her further.

“Shhh, shhh, it’s okay,” came a sharp, feminine voice. There was an accent in there somewhere, but Jess couldn’t narrow it down. She continued to thrash around the bed not knowing where the voice came from.

“Jessabell,” a familiar one joined, low and rough. This one she actually heard outside of her head.

Barnes came into view, his long hair tied up in a bun and his face freshly shaven. He shifted his head to block the light from her face and Jess stopped her squirming.

“Seriously?” Jess looked up at him, furious and breathing hard from her initial panic. “Even after that?”

“It’s a—“

“Precaution, yeah, whatever.” Jess rolled her eyes and shifted them from Barnes to the other two people in the room. Sam stood stoic next to a girl clad in a short dress and knee high boots. Her mysterious aura and downright badass look were cut short by a warm smile playing on her lips. Jess knew instantly who she was. “Holy crap.”

Wanda Maximoff quirked her brow, but the statement only made her smile grow.

“Hi,” she said with a wave of her hand.

“My God, you’re prettier in real life.”

She laughed and turned her gaze to Sam who was still looking at Jess with his stink-eye. 

Sam looked at Maximoff for a second and shrugged. “And all I got was big fan.”

“Barton got even less,” Barnes added.

“Barton shoots sticks, man, I fly. There’s a big difference.”

“Sorry about the restraints,” Maximoff apologized, her voice echoing in Jess’s mind. “I said we can trust you, but you’re a telepath, so—“

“Just in case?”

Maximoff scoffed and rolled her eyes again at Barnes and Wilson who were too busy bickering to see their exchange. “It’s funny; you’re more of a threat restrained than you are free.” 

Jess sensed there was something much deeper to what she said. Jess could try and pry, but didn’t want to invade Wanda Maximoff’s privacy. She was the only other telepath in the room after all.

“Good choice,” Wanda chuckled to Jess with a wink. Jess returned her smile, excited at the prospect of talking to people through a psychic link with such ease. Wanda’s gaze left hers and turned back to Sam, frowning at him. She felt Wanda’s presence leave her, a release of pressure in the back of her head she didn’t even notice was there.

“Are you two done?” Wanda asked, stopping Sam in the middle of a comeback. He narrowed his eyes at Barnes for a moment.

“Actually, no—“

“Actually,” Wanda began, a little more matter of factly. “We have to go.”

“For what?”

“I’m cooking tonight and I need your help.”

“Just ask Clint or Scott—“

“Let’s go!” Wanda pulled on his arm and started to drag him away. Sam grumbled as she did so and the pair left the room after Wanda gave Jess another wink.

Jess grinned. At least someone liked her. And it just so happens to be Wanda Maximoff? If she was around, then Jess wouldn’t mind laying on this hospital bed for a while. 

Remembering Barnes was still with her, Jess looked up at him and found he was watching her intently. Jess raised her brows at him, but didn’t bother initiating a conversation.

But he did.

“You probably have a lot of questions,” Barnes murmured.

“Well, the first thought I had was food, but the questions come to a close second,” Jess replied dryly.

Barnes huffed. “Okay.”

He turned and left her side, exiting the room without another word.

\---

Bucky strolled down the corridor, stomach rumbling at the smell emanating from the kitchen. He entered the room and nodded at Wanda and Sam who busily chopped up the last of the vegetables. Wanda’s hand flicked continuously at each slice of carrot Sam made, sending it into a simmering pan.

“How long ‘til it’s ready?”

“We’ve only just started,” Wanda sighed. She tossed its contents with a wave of her fingers before looking up at him. “Hungry already?”

“Sure,” Bucky nodded and leaned against the counter, watching them work.

“Then, make yourself a sandwich,” Sam suggested up before motioning to the fridge. Bucky huffed and stepped behind them, aiming to make a few ham and cheese sandwiches for the girl. 

Before he could open the door, Wanda said, “Peanut butter and jelly would be good, too.” Bucky looked at her for a moment and shrugged. She only smirked at him.

“Okay,” he drawled out as he opened one of the cabinets and searched for the jars. He pulled them out and set them on the counter before finding the rest of the ingredients in the fridge. Bucky worked silently, listening to Sam hum along to Wanda’s soft, classical music. He let himself relax into the moment, grateful that he’s been able to settle into a life like this. 

Bucky stacked up the sandwiches high atop two plates and placed them on a tray. He weaved his way out of the kitchen carefully, nodding his goodbyes to the pair still at work cooking tonight’s dinner. He can join them later.

Bucky made his way back to Wanda’s room, where the girl had been kept under for about a week now. He heard shuffling down the hall and looked up to see Scott. As always, the man had a smile on his face, waving at Bucky, but eyeing the sandwiches.

“Hey, Bucky!” Scott greeted, reaching his hand out to grab at a PB&J. Bucky immediately lifted the tray out of his reach and gave him an uneasy smile. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I skipped breakfast.”

Scott only looked slightly disappointed. “Oh, hey, okay, I was heading down to the kitchen, anyways. Promised to help Wanda with dinner.”

“Sam’s already down there,” Bucky shrugged. 

“What? It’s my turn!” Scott’s brows furrowed, but he shrugged and let it go. “Well, alright, might as well get down there, anyways.” Scott waved and gave Bucky another grin before continuing down the hall.   
Bucky turned and shook his head before setting back to bring the girl her food. He rounded the corner to the bedrooms and heard voices coming from Wanda’s room. The soft, giddy laughter that followed gave Bucky a clue who the girl was talking to.

As he entered the room, Steve turned and looked at him, eyes tired but crinkled from the smile on his face. Bucky noticed the girl’s arms and legs were freed before meeting his friend’s gaze. 

“Hey, Buck. Jessabell had some questions,” Steve began, tilting his head at her.

“Yeah,” he answered as he placed the tray beside Jessabell. “Said she’s hungry.”

“Yup,” Jessabell nodded, wincing in pain from the sudden movement. She narrowed her eyes and pointed at one of the plates. “Is that PB&J?”

“Sure is.” Bucky closed the distance between them and dropped the tray on the nightstand beside her. He turned to help her sit up, but Steve had beaten him to it.

“Thanks, Cap,” she said with a sheepish smile. Steve smiled back at her as he fluffed up her pillow. 

Bucky rolled his eyes at him before dropping the plate on her lap. “Eat up.”

Jessabell finally took her eyes off Steve and gave Bucky a half-smile. “Thanks,” she muttered before biting into a slice. She chewed thoughtfully for a moment, her cheeks puffed from the large bite she took. A quick sigh of content and another big bite told him she approved. Steve and Bucky watched as she devoured the stack, impressed by her speed, concerned at the few breaths she was taking.

“You really shouldn’t eat so fast,” Bucky warned.

“They don’t make ‘em like this at Hydra,” she returned with a shrug.

“You’re pretty calm for someone who’s been with them for a year.”

The girl coughed, almost choking on the half-swallowed sour dough, ham, and cheese mixture at her throat.

“Bucky,” Steve started, his forehead creasing, ready to scold.

Jessabell waved off Steve’s apologetic look. “No, it’s fine. He’s right.” She took a moment to wipe her mouth clean and push her plate aside. “I suppose it’s my turn to explain everything?”


	7. Chapter 7

"And here we are: me eating a damn good ham and cheese and you looking at me like you don't believe a damn thing." Jess settled into another sandwich without bothering to see the pair's reactions. She ran out of PB&J's about ten minutes into her story and kept eyeing the other plate before Barnes handed it to her.

"Why would you eat raw fish from a gas station?" Barnes asked her, his arms crossed. Steve only nodded with an even more confused look.

"Cravings," Jess replied.

She heard him scoff. If it weren't for the fact he made her some sandwiches, she would've said something back. Barnes had been staring at her, looking totally disbelieving, the entire time. She really couldn't blame him, but a bit of trust after saving his life is the least he could do.

"Some of it was spread through the fish supply," Steve whispered to Barnes who refused to remove his gaze from her. "It's not completely hard to believe."

Barnes shrugged a shoulder, unimpressed. "Yeah, sure."

Steve turned to address Jess. "I'm going to have to tell the others about this."

Jess looked up from her plate and nodded. "I know."

"Okay, Buck." Steve clapped his back and rose from his chair. "Let's let her get some rest."

"Sure." Barnes got up from his seat and grabbed the plate of ham and cheese. Jess wanted to protest and nab the last few slices, but thought it best not to. She watched as the pair walked out the door, waving at their retreating figures.

Full from the distrust sandwiches, Jess had sleep on her mind. Relieved her limbs were finally free, Jess kicked the soft blanket off her frame and stretched out across the bed. Her joints cracked and she sighed contentedly before grabbing a pillow to wrap her arms around. Jess nestled her head into the plush and was about to knock out when she heard rattling behind her.

She jerked in response and whipped her head around to see Barnes grabbing the tray he left behind.

"Shit, you scared me," Jess breathed, hugging the pillow closer to her. Barnes turned to her and studied her for a moment. Jess felt his stare a little too strongly again, her cheeks tinting in response. "Okay, I don't mean to be rude, but the staring is a bit off-putting, so if you could just—"

"Why bother helping us?" Barnes interrupted, turning his gaze away from her.

"It was my only way out." Jess shrugged as she settled against her pillows.

"We could have just been your diversion." Barnes lingered at her side, still not meeting her eyes. "But you still saved us from Paul and that other guy."

"Well, it's not like I know my way out of the middle of Russia. I needed a ride."

"Right." Barnes nodded once before turning himself to the door. There was a slight pause and Jess thought he was going to say something else, but he trudged out of the room with a huff.

"Thanks for lunch!" Jess called out, but he was gone.

Jess only saw Wanda for the next few days as she recovered. Assuming it was from the painkillers they had her on, Jess blissfully recuperated without a single migraine to torture her. There was a light buzz in the back of her head at times, but Wanda explained it was her being nosy.

Jess didn't mind. She had nothing to hide. She told them everything. She told them about the Watchdogs, the Pirogovs's offer, and what they had her do. Clearly they weren't completely forgiving as she hasn't seen Barnes, Sam, Hawkeye, or Steve since. She wasn't even told about the other guy in the house, but she could sense his presence.

Wanda was the only company she had and thank God for that. Apparently, the eyeless Pirogov had kept Jess subdued by aggravating the noise that she could have learned to shut away. Here, her mind was quieter than it had ever been.

Wanda brought her food and conversation. Once Jess was able to get on her feet and do her physical therapy, Wanda showed her the tricks of telepathy.

Her telepathy training used a trial and error method that usually led to embarassment on Jess's part. In addition to full-on hypnosis, Jess couldn't manipulate matter and energy like Wanda did.

But, aside from dream travelling, Jess could "guide" a person's mind. It wasn't exactly hypnosis, but more like convincing people of a twisted truth. Wanda showed her how to manipulate people's perception of what went on around them, usually with Jess at the receiving end. It was cool, but also a bit unsettling.

One particular afternoon, at least according to the clock beside Jess's sofa bed, Jess and Wanda practiced their silent communication.

" _What do you mean? They cancelled it?!"_ Jess gasped, audibly, nearly dropping the spoon she was holding.

" _No, but it's moving to a different channel."_ Before Jess could express her relief, Wanda continued. " _Sue and Mel and Mary quit."_

" _Oh, son of a—"_

" _And Paul is staying,"_  Wanda added as she scrunched up her face in disgust.

" _Fucking Paul would stay that little ass—"_

" _Right?"_

Jess huffed and let herself scoop up another spoonful of peanut butter. So much shit went down while she was gone, she was going to rip the Pirogovs apart when she sees them again. If she sees them again.

"What the hell are you two doing?"

Jess and Wanda looked up, not in the least bit surprised, at Sam leaning against the doorway, looking concerned and confused. Jess was getting used to that look.

"Eating peanut butter," Wanda replied simply, waving the jar she held. "Do you need something?"

"Steve needs you," he answered, pointing his thumb out the door. "It's important."

Wanda nodded quickly and reached for Jess's spoon. "I think that's enough for today."

"Umm, you just gave me some devastating news, I'm going to need more," Jess joked, stretching her hand away from Wanda. Wanda raised her brow and lifted her hand, red smoke weaving around her fingers. She yanked the spoon out of Jess's grip and laughed at her fake pout.

"Next time," Wanda smiled before walking past Sam and out the door. Jess sighed and waved with a weak smile, a bit disappointed to see her go.

" _I'll see you, later,"_ Wanda's voice echoed softly. Jess hummed back, urging her to hurry up as she had a ton more questions about what went down while she was gone and Sam was giving her his stink eye again.

Jess shifted awkwardly under his gaze and was about to point it out when he said, "Settling in okay?"

"Uhh," Jess stuttered at the question for a moment. Well, she wasn't expecting genuine concern. "Yep. Wanda's been keeping me company."

"So, listen," Sam began, crossing his arms and darting his eyes down to the floor. "The team and I've been talking about what to do with you."

Oh, boy. Jess was afraid this time would come. Obviously, she can't stay with them. It was probably hard enough housing the six most wanted fugitives in the world under one roof. Add to that a telepath with some fishy ties with creepy, inhuman supremacists? Yikes.

"I can't stay," Jess muttered, saying what was on his mind.

"Yeah," Sam nodded with a sigh.

"No, no, I've gotten more than I deserve from all of you." Jess shook her head even as her stomach churned and her eyes wetted.

"You got family that we can contact—"

"No," she stopped him. There's no need to bring anyone else into this. Not with all these loose strings still hanging. "Just me."

"Really? No friends? Employers?"

Jess shrugged.

"No one out there wondering where you've been?"

"I haven't made any attachments ever since I changed." That wasn't not true.

"Hmph," Sam stood there for a moment in clear disbelief, but shrugged it off. "Well, we can hook you up with a new identity to keep the Pirogovs off your tail 'til we take them down for good."

Jess nodded quickly, her face scrunching up in worry at the thought of what's to come. Being on the run was not something she was looking forward to. When she changed, she got lucky enough to have powers she could hide. Sometimes, she'd slip up and answer unspoken questions or fire back at unexpressed insults, so she couldn't stay around for too long. Especially not when the town started to whisper the devil was walking among them.

But no one ever came after her. Too afraid maybe, but mostly too comfortable in their own little worlds to confront the big bad monster who just wanted to know if you were bullshitting her on the mango price hike.

So, being on the run? With a pair of pissed off inhumans who don't like loose ends on your ass? It doesn't sound like those fairytale adventures she was—and sometimes still is—obsessed with.

"We're not forcing you out or anything. We'll keep you for however long you need to recover." Sam, sensing Jess's slight unease at his sudden change of heart, continued. "Besides, we want to keep that smile on Wanda's face for as long as we can."

Jess relaxed a bit at this and offered him a smile. "Glad I could convince someone I'm not as shady as I look."

Sam chuckled and replied, "It's hard to trust someone that can get into your head from thousands of miles away and was kind of in kahoots with Hydra."

Jess flinched at that. Harsh, Sam Wilson was, but the truth, he told.

"Yeah, I wouldn't either," was all she could say. Before an awkward silence could detain the two, Sam uncrossed his arms and asked, "What did they have that pulled you in anyway? Bet even my vindaloo is better than whatever crap they called food back there."

"Sand is better than the crap they called food back there."

"Okay," Sam nodded slowly at the retort. "Dinner's at 6."

Jess perked up at the invitation, but thought better.

"Oh! I—I don't think I should—"

"Why? Got other plans?"

"No."

"I'll send someone to bring you down."

Jess struggled to say thank you as she started to buzz with excitement. Or was it nerves? Whatever. Both.

"I—I can manage on my own." Yeah, like they'd totally want her wandering around their home on her own.

"Good luck finding your way around this place," Sam shrugged, pushing off the doorframe and turning away.

"I can manage!" Jess called out after him, watching as he rounded a corner and walked out of her sight.

The clock said she had two hours before dinner. Too early to get ready, too late to start watching something from Wanda's movie collection. If only she was around to talk to more often.

Wanda said she was welcome to using anything in her room, but there really wasn't much. There were a few books, but none that looked interesting nor readable in the time she had. There was a deck of cards, but you need  _two_  people for that.

A guitar sat on a stand in the corner of the room gathering dust. Jess swung her legs over the side of the bed and slowly stood up, holding onto the nightstand for a second to balance herself. She made her way to the instrument and admired the waves etched along its side. She lifted it carefully from the stand and settled on the couch next to her wrinkled blanket.

Jess knew how to play a few chords back when she was forced to take music, but she was never any good. Her fingers picked at the strings and she cringed at the sounds it made. Maybe it was out of tune? Or maybe she was?

The last few days were the first time in a while Jess felt safe and comfortable. But, of course, that isn't going to last. In a few days, she's going to have to leave and find her way back into the world. She can't go back home. Even when the Pirogovs are out of the picture, she can't show her face in that town ever again. Maybe she can visit given time. It would be nice to see her mother again while she still remembers.

What was she going to do now? Sure, she'll be living under a new identity, but she still needs to keep her head down. She still needs to be ready to go AWOL in a moment's notice.

Jess wanted to punch her college self in the face. Suddenly, settling down into a nice, routine life sounded like a dream compared to what she's going to have to do. But she never asked for a life like this. No chance to live the life she wanted. Stripped of choice, of freedom. Ripped away from the people she cared about.

Yikes.

She needs to stop getting sucked into the internal melodrama.

Bored out of her mind, she slammed her head back against the couch and continued strumming, growing nervous with each second that passed. Her foot tapped with each strum and Jess developed a beat akin to the ticking clock. The rhythm lulled Jess into a sleepy state and soon she started to doze off. Wanda's bedroom faded into a blur before slipping into darkness. Here, she seemed to float for a moment before surging forward, feeling her essence leave her bones, blood, and body behind.

Then, she settled.

Jess found herself sitting against something hard and cold. Her head lay at an awkward angle, aching as she lifted it up and opened her eyes. Jess gasped at the sight before her.

Expecting to see Wanda's empty bedroom wall, Jess took in the sight before her. Rows of newly polished pews lead the way to a raised wooden altar. Candles lined the path to the area that housed the altar, providing the dim lighting that gave the place an eerie feel.

No windows, at all. Weird. But who was she to define a dream?

It wasn't hers, she could feel that. Yet, it felt familiar.

The ceiling was low where she stood, but gradually sloped up into a dome right above the towering cross.

The instinctual jolt to the heart reminded Jess to avert her eyes before they fell upon the being hanging from it. Call her God-fearing or just downright ridiculous, she could never stomach the sight of an occupied cross. She kept her view low as she rose from her seat, intent on finding a way out of the creepy church. Behind her pew stood the stoup, filled to the brim with holy water, that blocked the way to the double door.

Jess squeezed past it and reached for the handles before a small voice called to her, making her jump.

"Jess?" The distant voice came from direction of the altar, but she couldn't see anyone. It sounded as if they were far away.

The candles closest to her started to dim, slowly, one by one, threatening to darken entirely. Jess took the cue to make her escape and turn the handle, but it wouldn't budge. She pushed and tugged before angrily slamming her palm against the wood. Taking a step back, Jess threw herself at the door, aiming at the gap, but it was no use. She turned, her eyes darting around to find another exit.

There was another door, to the right of the pews, hidden behind a thick pillar. Jess made for it, nearly pushing the stoup to the floor. She ignored the continuous calls of her name and her hand flew out to twist the knob. To her relief, it was unlocked. She snuck a quick look at the altar, finding no one, and pushed the door open, her foot realizing her mistake before her eyes did.

Jess screamed as she dove straight into a pitch black abyss. Something seized her torso, gripping tight to speed up her descent, but something else grabbed her from behind.

A dry, calloused hand wrapped around her wrist and Jess let out another shriek. It tugged on her firmly, causing whatever tried to pull her into the void to bellow in fury. The wail blew Jess's hair out of her face and with it came a shower of sticky snot that stung the second it hit her skin. Her head spun from the opposing pulls and the smell of the creature's breath from below. She tasted the bile just as it went past her throat, forcing her mouth open to release its contents. She heard the creature growl as her vomit splattered onto its arm. At this, Jess beat the claw clutching at her stomach, deciding she'd rather face whatever was in the church than the monster below.

Behind her, another hand managed to grab a hold of her leg. Whoever kept her from a sure death below pulled so hard that Jess thought she'd be torn from her limbs.

The creature struggled under her and Jess felt another load of vomit push up from her stomach. Waiting as long as she could, she filled up her mouth with the bitter liquid before letting it spew out of her in a series of coughs and gags. The thing let out an ear-splitting screech of frustration at Jess, sending up another wave of stinging snot to her face.

Jess yanked her other arm free and the calloused hand went straight for her dangling leg before it lost its grip on her. The creature, intent on capturing Jess, yanked on her relentlessly against the efforts of the voice above her.

"Jess! The arm!" It yelled, its hands slipping down to her ankles.

With that, Jess wrapped a hand at the end of the creature's forearm. She bent her free arm, reached back, and slammed her elbow close to its wrist. The creature squealed as it drew its claw back, scratching Jess's side and ripping through her shirt in the process.

"You did it!" Immediately, the source of the voice pulled on her legs, bringing her back into the floating church. It struggled to bring her inside and Jess kicked back against its hands once her own got a hold of the floor. Pushing herself up into a sitting position, Jess pulled the door closed behind her and slumped against it, out of breath.

"What the fuck," Jess breathed, her eyes fluttering closed as she caught her breath. Her hand flew up to her side to assess the damage, but found none. Her other hand went for her face, but found it clean. "Oh my god, where the hell am I?"

"You're close," the voice replied, distant again, yet Jess could feel its presence next to her.

Swallowing hard, Jess propped herself up on one hand before turning to the sound of it. Afraid of what she might see, she carefully peeked through one eye and saw the silhouette of a small figure kneeling before her.

"Oh my god." Jess's breath hitched for a moment as she let her eyes fully open and recognize the child. "Rex."

"Jess!" The kid threw her arms around her, knocking the air out of Jess. "You said a swear." Rex giggled against her and Jess couldn't help but laugh right back. Jess drew in a sharp breath before whooping hysterically and returning the embrace with equal ferocity.

"You're alive!"

Rex nodded and pulled away, placing her hands on Jess's cheeks. "They took me away," she whimpered. A frown replaced her toothy smile.

"Where are you?" Jess's voice cracked.

"They're coming for you, Jess. They don't care about the soldier anymore. They want you to be dead." A sob caught in Rex's throat as she threw her arms around Jess, again. Jess's stomach dropped at the warning.

"They know where I am," Jess said, gravely. Rex nodded against her neck, tugging her closer.

"But Captain America will protect you!" Rex reassured.

Jess patted Rex's back lightly, thinking to herself. She had to get out and fast. She couldn't put Wanda or Steve or any of their friends in danger. She's done enough of that already. Another international incident would be a disaster for them and for their asylum country.

She needs to lead the Pirogovs away from Wakanda.

Jess's recovery had gone faster than she expected. Steve thought the daily injections from the Pirogovs were really some weaker form of a super serum. Wanda figured her inhuman DNA had something to do with it. Jess had a feeling it was a bit of both.

Only a few more days of rest and physical therapy should get her in shape to leave. Then, Jess could leave the former Avengers alone and tie up her loose ends herself.

"Jess, you need to be safe," Rex whispered, pulling Jess out of her dream thoughts.

"I will be, don't worry," Jess nodded. "Don't let them get near you, okay? If they do, show them your teeth." Jess cupped Rex's face in her hands. She looked at the child reassuringly before baring her teeth and growling, earning another giggle from her.

"That's silly," Rex judged. Her little fingers flew up to squeeze Jess's lips together, making her blow raspberries instead. "You're so silly, Jess."

"I am aren't I?" Jess laughed, feeling empty. She placed a kiss on Rex's forehead as she smoothed her curls from her face. "Get some rest. They can't hurt you in your dreams."

Rex nodded, smiling up at her, before pulling away to get on her feet.

"Bye-bye," Rex sang before skipping past the pews and out of sight behind the altar from where she came.

Jess sat in the church, quietly, sulking in its emptiness for what felt like an eternity. She had so many questions and so many problems to sort through and answer and solve.

One at a time.

Before she can leave, she has to convince the former Avengers she's fit and healthy to go. This dinner is her chance to do so.

"Jessabell?" A new voice called, rough and low, making Jess jump to her feet. This one sounded much closer; so loud it made the church walls shake.

Jess jumped over the pews and ran to the back of the church where the holy water stood. If these walls caved in, there was no telling what other monsters lurked outside.

"Jessabell?!" The walls cracked and the ceiling crumbled, sending bits of debris to the floor. One by one, the candles fell to the ground, going out and darkening the church entirely.

Jess ducked to the ground and covered herself with her arms. She needed to get out. She needed to wake up.

With a scream, Jess felt her consciousness reel back into her body. She found herself on the floor of Wanda's bedroom, her limbs pinned down by a firm hold.

Jess blew the hair out of her eyes and found Barnes staring wide-eyed at her. He immediately let go and pushed himself away to place some distance between them.

"Sorry. You were on the floor. I tried to wake you up, but then you started kicking and shaking."

"Wh-Why are you here?" Jess pushed the rest of her hair out of her face. Half of it was stuck thanks to some semi-dried up drool and she had to wipe it away, embarassed.

Barnes was still staring at her as she propped herself up. "Dinner."

"Oh, right." She shook herself to get rid of the sleep in her system. And to attempt to do away with the anxiety of what just happened.

It wasn't going to go away any time soon.

"I'll, uh, wait outside," Barnes nodded. He got up and trudged out of the room, closing the door behind him.


	8. Chapter 8

"Wanda and Scott are with us. From what Jess said, we're going to need them. Wanda's taking the telepath and Scott's got some ideas for the Sparky dude. Sorry, man, but Steve's right. They want you. We can't take the risk of bringing you along." Sam's video message cut to black before Clint's glowering face took its place.

"And keep an eye on her will you? Wanda said she was acting weird." Clint's gaze shifted away. Somehow, his scowl deepened. "What did I do now?!"

Somewhere off-camera came Wanda's voice. "Maybe, if you were a little nicer, she would've been more comfortable."

Clint mimicked her chiding tone. "Well, maybe, if she were a little less shady, I would've been more comfortable."

"Who said I gave a shit about your comfort at the time?" Wanda's voice raised an octave and Bucky could hear a minute shift to her original accent. "She was intimidated by you, dummy, and your attitude was terrible."

Beside Clint, Bucky could see Scott shift uncomfortably in his seat.

"Hey, guys, can we just—"

"He should know what he did," Wanda said simply.

"Wait, what did he do?" Steve's voice jutted in. He must have been sitting in front of Clint.

Bucky frowned at the sound of his voice. Steve left him behind. The one time he managed to fall asleep, they pull this shit on him. These people were risking their lives for his useless ass again. He didn't want to stay here while they fought his battles for him. He should've gone with them.

"He was kind of an ass to Jess at dinner last night." Sam returned to the conversation, but still off-camera. Clint's eye fluttered shut as the other rolled itself at Sam.

"Kind of?" Wanda scoffed.

"So were you," Clint muttered to Sam, his eyes shut like he was trying to ignore everyone around him.

"Oh, grow up!" Wanda spat. "Your children have better manners, you asshole!"

"I'm not a child, kid!"

"You literally sleep hugging that life size teddy bear of yours," Scott said.

"It provides torso support!"

"Against what?" Wanda rolled her eyes. "Gravity?"

"Hey! It was your brother that shot me—"

"Clint, if you don't shut up, you're staying on the jet!" Sam cut in. Clint muttered something under his breath, too low for the microphone to pick up.

Sam's outburst shut everyone up, but the message kept going. Only a low hum and a periodic beeping sound kept the jet from going completely quiet. Bucky watched, bored, as Clint made faces at no one and Scott studied the controls along his arm rest. His eyes lingered at a green blinking button before he pressed it.

"Oh, shit!"

Bucky flinched at the same time Scott jumped in his seat. The camera popped out too close to Scott's face, giving Bucky a close up of his nostrils. He pushed the contraption away and wiped the lens with his finger, smudging it more.

"Oh! Oh, is this still on?" Scott squinted at the camera. "Guys, it's been recording this entire time."

"Just press the button below the green one," Steve instructed. He should know. He gave Bucky a message before every mission to apologize for not bringing him along.

"Oh! Ahhh, wait! Hey, Bucky, can you tell Jess we're sorry about ditching her—"

"I'm not." Clint was still awake. There was a light slapping sound. "Ow! Wanda!"

"—ditching her before training? We were supposed to go on the mission after!" He had to raise his voice against Clint's shouts. "Tell her we'll do one before she leaves!"

"That's it!" Sam shouted, making Scott flinch, before telling every one to shut up.

"Sorry, Bucky, gotta go." Scott waved half-heartedly at him and the hologram went blank.

That explains why Steve wasn't at dinner last night. He was letting T'Challa know about today's hit. The others must have been in on it by dinner, too. That explains why Clint didn't try anything against him last night even with his mood.

Bucky waved the hologram away and kicked the covers off his bed. He wiped his tired eyes and yawned, stretching his arms out above his head. No wonder he got such a good night's sleep. Wanda must have put him under again.

Bucky didn't feel like going out for a run today and he shouldn't. It was just him and Jessabell in the bunker. As much as he may have started to warm up to her, he should stay here. The team might need something from the base, anyway.

"Asa?"

"Yes, Mr. Barnes?" The robotic voice, warm and calm, filled the quiet of the room.

"What time does Jessabell wake up?" Bucky asked.

"Around noon. Shall I wake her?" Jesus Christ, noon?

"Nah, let her sleep." Bucky shook his head at the ceiling above. He frowned at the clock. It was half past seven. His bedroom was still dark, the shades blocking out the light of the sunrise. Without looking up, his metal hand felt for the controls and tapped the button for the lights.

Bucky squinted at the brightness for a moment as his eyes adjusted. He grabbed his neatly folded t-shirt from his nightstand and pulled it on as he climbed out of bed. His slippers sat just in front of the bathroom door. Bucky slipped them on, stepped inside his bathroom, and felt for the light switch. Flipping it on, Bucky frowned at his reflection in the mirror. His beard grew faster than the chia plants in those commercials Clint insisted were funny. He turned on the faucet and let the cold water run down his hand before splashing it on his face. He could take a shower now or after breakfast. No, he has to have breakfast with Jessabell. He should shower now.

After wiping down the sink, Bucky tapped at the controls next to his shower stall. The water instantly began to stream out of the opening above. As he slipped inside, the steam started to fog up the glass door. Bucky initiated his normal shower routine as he tried to push away the worry about Steve and his friends.

Jessabell was in a much better state than Bucky thought. The small fractures in her hand and skull healed by the time they returned to Wakanda. She insisted they were old injuries, but the jet's exterior security footage said something different. She exhausted easily, but pushed past her limits. Jessabell's powers combined with the right intensive training and she could just about match any of them in combat.

That is, if it was an option in the first place.

Nevertheless, something about her irked Bucky. He could see a sense of loneliness in her. She became fast friends with Wanda, sure, and was clearly infatuated with Steve, but her uneasiness and somber glances showed a deep sadness within her. Steve and Sam said she didn't have any contacts to help integrate her back into society. Whether that was actually true or not, Bucky wasn't sure. Maybe, she didn't want to involve people she trusted in her troubles. Maybe, she thought going at it alone was the way to go.

Bucky was able to survive that way for a few years. Jumping from place to place, leaving no trace of himself in his wake. No friends, obviously no family, and no attachments. He finally settled in Romania, something about the place felt familiar to him, but that didn't last long. Having Steve back, meeting Sam and the others, finally finding some peace thanks to T'Challa and his people. That's what saved him. That's what gave him a life.

No one should have to carry on without the company of their loved ones. Hopefully after this mission, another person wouldn't have to.

"Mr. Barnes, Ms. Mendoza has awakened," announced Asa. Bucky frowned at the ceiling. She was up early.

"Okay, I'm almost done," Bucky replied, quickly rinsing the soap off his body. He shut off the water and patted himself dry with a towel before stepping out of the shower.

His room was cold as he entered. A fresh white t-shirt and a pair of jeans waited for him at the end of his bed. Asa insisted on picking out an outfit for him every morning. The body-less computer program managed to rummage through his dresser and place a set of neatly folded clothes on his bed without a sound or any indication of movement. They were always there after he showered. Bucky learned to not question Wakandan tech.

Sam had rolled his eyes at him with his plain taste in clothing. Before going off on his own "vacations", he would ask everyone if they wanted anything from the outside world.

Wanda gave him a laundry list of cooking spices. Sam obliged, adding his own into the mix. Clint wanted Skittles, insisting the ones in Wakanda were different like they tasted like anything other than sugar. Sam ignored him and just waited until they got their food supply shipment from the City. Steve never asked for anything but for Sam to get back safe and sound. Sam would roll his eyes again, but a smirk would reveal itself once Steve looked away.

Scott asked for a picture of his growing daughter. The poor guy hadn't seen her in a year. He didn't want her and her family to get involved, so he only ever saw his Hope during vacation. But Sam never makes it to California. His ailing mother needed him home and not a single FBI, Interpol, or other government-backed agent was going to stop her.

Bucky asked for Steve's wish to be granted, lest the wrath of Steven Grant Rogers be unleashed on the world. Sam wholeheartedly rolled his eyes at this and enlisted the others for help.

The first time Sam came back, Bucky received boxes filled with his own gifts, including a refurbished Polaroid with plenty of film. Sam and Steve had pooled their allowances to get him the vintage camera and Bucky had to admit he felt a little warm inside at the gesture. He immediately began taking pictures of the team: portraits and candids; Steve drawing in the corner quietly and Sam scolding someone for something; Wanda cooking with Sam and Scott sparring with Clint; and the team eating together and the backs of Steve, Sam, and Clint heading off for a mission. As mundane as something might have been, Bucky took a picture of it. Eventually, he ran out of film.

Sam was long overdue for another break, but the missions kept coming in. One after the other, the jobs prevented the others from taking their vacations. As selfish as it might sound, at least it made the bunker a little livelier instead of Steve, Bucky, and Wanda being left alone.

Apart from the Polaroid, Bucky received several boxes of trendy ("but it's still Bucky-level basic") clothes. There was so much, he was surprised Sam had fit it all inside the Baby Jet.

Bucky made a face at the denim as he slipped it on. Why were pants sold already faded? And with holes in them already? His first memory of fashionable worn out clothing was the late '80's. Not that Hydra forced him into some baggy, brightly multicolored get-up or at least he hoped. A few flashes of some men and women in that kind of garb staring oddly at him came into his mind.

In any case, Wanda insisted it was "cool" and he looked "damn fine" in it. Actually, Sam had given the latter compliment, so it might have been a joke. Bucky groaned at his dresser mirror, unsure.

"May I say you look handsome today, Mr. Barnes," Asa commented, reading Bucky's hesitance. "And I must inform you, Ms. Mendoza's having a meltdown—"

"Huh?" Bucky questioned, alarmed. Asa had a penchant for over-exaggerating the ordinary and understating the unusual. "Asa, what?"

"Nothing that hasn't happened before—"

"Asa!" Bucky growled, sprinting across his bedroom and out his door. He could hear panicked shouts down the hall followed by the sound of a closing door.

"Wanda! Wanda!"

Bucky followed the sound, a tight feeling forming in his chest. The door at the end of the hall was open. He heard the sound of faint breathing, heavy and wet as he entered the hall kitchen.

Huddled into a corner, Bucky found Jessabell sweaty and hyperventilating. He froze for a moment. He didn't know what to do.

"Jessabell," he said softly so as to not startle her.

"Stop it, stop, please," she sobbed, burying her head deeper into her arms. "Make it stop."

He took a careful step. He was close enough to reach out and touch her, but Bucky knew better.

"What do you want me to do?" Bucky asked.

Jessabell's body shook as she let out a heavy sob. Her hands wrapped around her head, covering her ears, before her fingers tightened around her hair.

"The noise, make it stop!" she cried. Aside from her labored breathing, the room was dead quiet.

"Jessabell, it's just you and me." Bucky crouched down, resting his arms on his thighs as he studied her. She shook her head before slamming it into the cabinets behind her.

"Jessabell!" Bucky shot his hand out and his flesh met hers briefly. The shock of the connection nearly threw him back as the screaming blared in his head for a split second. He hissed at the fleeting pain, wondering how she could endure it for so long.

Jessabell gasped at the touch and closed in on herself further.

"It's not real, it's not," she repeated to herself. Her arms wrapped around her knees and she rested her forehead on her knees. Sweat and tears matted her hair at her cheeks and blocked Bucky from looking her in the eyes. Despite the trembling, her body looked limp and tired, void of color.

Bucky swallowed hard. The sight was difficult to take in.

Bucky tried to level his voice. "I'm here, Jessabell. I'm real."

"No, it's all in my head!" she growled bitterly. She lifted her head and stared blankly at the ceiling, her bottom lip quivering. "Why don't you just kill me Pirogov?!"

Bucky shifted to sit directly in front of her. He wanted to get her eyes, get her to focus on something. It could distract from the noise. It could at least convince her she's really here in a real kitchen with a real Bucky Barnes.

"Jessabell, look at me," Bucky tried. He followed her darting eyes, trying to catch them. Her face scrunched up as if to sob again, but she bit it back. "Jessabell, please."

She shook her head. "It was too good to be true," she breathed out all rough and ragged. She placed a shaky hand to her temple and rubbed the area angrily.

"Jessabell, please, look at me," Bucky pleaded. He wanted to put her hands into his own and keep them from hurting herself any further. "Just look."

Jessabell took a long breath. Slowly, her hand dropped to her lap and she lifted her gaze to his. Her weary eyes were red, the skin around them wet and puffy. Her muscles relaxed a little, but she scooted backwards as if on guard. But she seemed calmer as she tried to control her breathing and focus on him.

"Remember last night? We had dinner with Wanda and Sam. You met Scott. Clint was being a jerk. Then, we sparred, remember?" Bucky recounted. He needed to ground her, give her something to hold on to.

She nodded. "It was so detailed," she spat bitterly. "I'll give Pirogov that."

"No, Jess, it's me, Bucky Barnes," he almost begged.

"You did a pretty good job, long hair and everything," she continued, wiping her sweat with the back of her hand. She let it fall, the skin slapping against the cold tile floor.

Bucky sighed. How was he going to convince her? More importantly, how did this happen? Did she normally wake up and have reactions like this? He wanted to ask Asa, but a talking ceiling might disturb her further.

Bucky pulled back, putting a few feet between himself and Jessabell. He got on his feet, keeping her within sight, and reached for the controls. He quickly tapped at the menu that appeared, muting Asa before putting the main jet on the line. It rang for a moment and Bucky watched as Jessabell stared straight ahead at nothing. The noise must have stopped. The pain was gone from her eyes.

"Bucky?" Clint's face popped up above the sink. "What's up? Is she giving you trouble?"

Bucky glared at the hologram before replying, "Get over it, Clint. Where's Wanda?"

Clint's expression dropped. He glowered at Bucky and answered, "They've sent me back. I'm like an hour away."

"Couldn't keep your mouth shut?" Bucky asked flatly as he raised a brow at him. When Clint frowned, he stared back icily.

"Whatever, man, what do you want?"

"Wanda. The comms system must've rerouted my call," Bucky said. Before Clint could speak, Bucky swiped at his image and ended the call. He'll just connect to Wanda's comms directly.

He tapped at the controls again, typing in Wanda's code name, and waited. The chiming continued and Bucky set it to ring until she picked up. He glanced at Jessabell and found her staring at him curiously.

"You feeling better?"

She just looked at him, studying him with suspicion.

Bucky sighed and sat down again. Her eyes followed. "How can I get you to believe me?" he muttered, mostly to himself. He studied her this time. Finally, she maintained eye contact with him. Her dilated pupils darkened her already muddy eyes in the dim kitchen.

Bucky inched a bit closer to her. She tilted her head to the side, but didn't pull back. Bucky, with a cautious knot in his stomach, extended his flesh hand to Jessabell.

She regarded it warily before giving a small huff. Her hand lifted from her lap and reached for Bucky slowly. Cold, shaking fingers slid over Bucky's palm.

There was a pause as the pitch of the ringing dropped to a hollow silence and Bucky felt himself, his consciousness, his soul get sucked into the touch. Instinct tried to get him to resist, but Bucky fought it.

This felt different from the dream. That felt like an intrusion. This felt like a connection, a higher form of communication. Here, there were no lies to deceive and no where to hide. He wasn't subject to anything, he still had choice, but here he could share only the truth.

For every query Jessabell had, Bucky's consciousness answered. He felt her suspicion waver as he laid out his memories from their meeting in the snow to their good-nights at the elevator. But as he shared a thought about the images they experienced, Jessabell began to give him a piece of her mind.

A frustration, but careful understanding with his cool exterior. Heated irritation with Clint's hostility mixed with a nauseating anxiety about the scrutiny from her rescuers. A breath of relief as she left the dinner table. Fleeting bursts of unease with Bucky's every motion as he followed her around the training room. Sudden fatigue before she retired to her quarters.

Bucky expressed understanding and felt her energy grow warm as she pulled back, pushing Bucky's aura away. The motion made Bucky's stomach churn and he returned to with a gasp. He had closed his eyes during the exchange, opening them to find Jessabell looking away from him.

"Oh, god," Jessabell mumbled, her cheeks red. Color returned to her skin and she looked alive again, but still tired. "I think I forget sometimes."

"How long has it been happening?" Bucky asked. He offered his hand to her again and lifted her to her feet. He backed up slowly, maneuvering her to a bar stool. She slid onto it and shifted until she was comfortable.

"Since I got here," Jessabell cringed. She waved a finger at her head. "Not often though. Wanda usually magicks it away."

"They're out on a mission," Bucky informed her, turning to the stove and putting the kettle on. He opened the cabinets near the sugar and took out their tea jar. He twisted the lid and slid the container to Jessabell.

"A mission?" She shook the contents before plucking out a packet of chamomile. She pushed it back to him and Bucky snatched the last of the earl grey before putting the jar away.

"Yup," Bucky affirmed as he swiped the ringing call away. They must be busy scoping out the place, limiting communication to those on the mission. Priority calls only. A distress call would've been sent out if they were in trouble. There was no need to worry.

"You look worried," Jessabell commented quietly. She bit her lip when he glanced her way. "Who are they after? Unless, it's classified, then never mind I get it, whatever."

Bucky took a moment, pretending to check on the now simmering water. There wasn't a threat of a security breach. He could tell her. He should tell her.

"The Pirogovs."

"Huh?" Jessabell squeaked. She rose from her seat too quickly, catching herself with a hand to the counter. "Where?"

"It's need-to-know. I don't know," Bucky admitted. He settled near Jessabell, motioning for her to sit back down.

She swallowed hard before asking, "They found them?" She looked worried, unsure.

"Wanda got a lead," Bucky answered.

"They all went?"

Bucky nodded. He considered it for a moment and decided she absolutely needed to know this. "But Clint's on his way back."

"Oh, God," she groaned, putting her hands over her face. They slid down and she shook her head. "I should go."

Bucky frowned, watching her as she started to stand. "Why?"

"I make him uncomfortable," Jessabell explained. She waved at her temple and made to turn. "Um, thanks for bringing me back."

Bucky skipped closer and pointed a thumb at the kettle. "Your tea."

As if on cue, the kettle whistled, the pitch rising as it wailed for attention. Bucky reached back and turned the knob and the kettle went quiet.

"Oh, right," Jessabell mumbled. She slipped behind Bucky and eyed the cabinets before pulling one open. Standing on her toes, she reached up and pulled out Bucky's mug and a plain one for herself. Bucky cringed a little as he took the cup from her hand.

Jessabell saw his face twist and laughed. "It's cute," she smiled as she traced a finger around the green circle marked "Starbucky's Coffee". The cartoon Bucky drawn on the mug smirked at her, his arms crossed.

"Steve drew it," Bucky said. He poured the piping hot water into her mug before filling up his own. "Some irony about communism and capitalism."

"Oh, yikes," Jessabell breathed, blowing on her brewing tea. She leaned against the counter, taking careful sips as her eyes darted occasionally to the door.

"If you want to go, I understand," Bucky tried to assure. He dunked his tea bag up and down, waiting for the brew to strengthen. Jessabell's eyes widened before she shook her head vigorously. Her gaze went distant as she regained her composure, the movement having made her dizzy for a moment.

"It's not you, It's Clint," she explained.

"Yeah, but I know I don't make for interesting company either."

Jessabell frowned and quirked a brow. "You make for interesting company," she disagreed. Bucky looked at her, disbelieving, before finally taking a gulp of his earl grey. He winced at the taste. How did Sam drink this stuff?

"You're too nice for your own good."

Her frown deepened as she held the mug close to her lips. "That's not such a bad thing is it?"

"Maybe not for everyone else," Bucky shrugged before holding up the kettle with his metal hand. It was still steaming, still hot enough to fill another cup. Jessabell shook her head, carefully this time, and took another sip.

"What does being mean and bitter accomplish?" she challenged through pursed lips.

"It can keep you out of trouble," Bucky shrugged. And it could. Constantly kind and patient people get taken advantage of.

"I don't think trouble discriminates," she replied.

Bucky didn't have to think twice before nodding. "Good people tend to get hurt."

"So, do bad people," Jessabell shrugged. "And are we really going to get deep and try to define good people versus bad people?"

The corner of Bucky's lips turned up, mirroring Jessabell's faint smirk. "I'll have to get another kettle going." Her smirk turned into a full-fledged smile and Bucky turned to the sink. As the kettle filled with water, Bucky offered, "If you want, we can go upstairs before he comes back."

"Okay," she murmured, taking the kettle from Bucky's hands and setting it on the stove. She turned the knob and flames licked up from burner. "What's upstairs?"

"The roof," Bucky answered. He could feel his stomach start to rumble and could tell Jessabell was hungry, too.

"Like, outside?" Her expression brightened, looking excited, even with her disheveled hair and weary eyes.

Bucky nodded. "With trees and everything."

"There better be fresh air, too," she added. Then, she frowned, noticing Bucky staring at her hair. "Oh god, I look like a mess don't I?"

"Yeah, but it's not a big deal—"

"No, I feel gross," she groaned, patting her hair down to flatten it. It didn't work.

"I can—uh—make breakfast while you wash up," Bucky offered. He thumbed the handle of his cup repeatedly, suddenly feeling strange again.

Jessabell beamed before closing her mouth with a wince. "I'll be quick!"

Bucky watched as she turned and hurried out of the room.

Now, where did Sam hide his Fruit Loops?

\---

Jess washed her hair hurriedly, not wanting to keep Barnes waiting and not wanting to be alone with her thoughts for too long.

She prayed that Rex was okay and they'll bring her in safe and sound. The kid had experienced enough trauma for a lifetime. If they didn't bring her in, Jess will find her herself.

How come Wanda didn't tell her about the mission? It would've put her mind at ease that they were one step ahead of the Pirogovs. Did they not trust her? Is that why Barnes was left behind? A brooding, but kind of a little adorable, babysitter? Gross. Weird.

Jess scrubbed the sweat and grime from her body, more annoyed than shaken from her latest episode. Disassociating was a normal thing according to Wanda's wisdom. She had experienced it before, thankfully away from any witnesses, but never to this extent.

The thought of waking up one morning not knowing, not trusting, where you were and who you were with scared Jess. What was she going to do when she had to leave? What was she going to do without Wanda's calming pseudo-hypnosis?

Anxiety was bad enough, how was she going to deal with this on her own?

Jess shivered from the cold water as it shot out of the shower head. She didn't bother changing the settings to fit her preferences. She let the water run for a moment, staring blankly at the fogged glass door before her.

If Wanda and the others brought down the Pirogovs, then she was pretty much safe, right? There would be no need to be on the run. I mean she would have to explain her year-long absence, but she could go home, right? At least to see her mother? She pretty much took care of herself her entire life—something Jess wished she picked up on—but Jess wanted to see her Mama.

That way, neither of them had to be alone.

Screw those asshole neighbors of her's, anyways. They never did trust her Mama and her American, born-out-of-wedlock daughter.

Jess sighed as she pushed a button, stopping the flow of the water. She grabbed her towel from its rung and stepped out of the shower. She felt a little sore from last night's workout, but the lasting pain from her latest episode seemed to mask it. As she dried off her body, Jess pulled on her clothes, scowling at the reflection of her stomach stretching out the fabric. She walked away from the mirror and tossed the towel back on the rung before giving the bathroom a quick once over.

Wanda wasn't too tidy either, claiming that a messy home was a mark of a smart person. Jess would've called bullshit, but figured not to call her out on it. Her room, her philosophy, right?

Jess made her way out of the bedroom and towards the smell of frying bacon. Her stomach started to rumble at the smell and Jess realized she was hungry for a fresh, hot meal. Her meals usually got cold by the time Wanda brought it up to her, but she tried not to complain. They were still pretty good, anyways. Last night's dinner, as awkward and frustrating as it was, was amazingly delicious. Who knew fugitives could cook?

Jess finally got to meet the other presence in the house. Scott was warm and sweet, but she still had no idea who he was. Jess could've poked inside his head a little, but she figured not to push it with these guys. Besides, she was kind of a little done with the invasion-of-privacy shit. Unless Privacy was threatening her life or anyone else's, she'll cool it with using her powers for the time being.

Barnes hunched over the stove, cooking up breakfast with four pans going at once. He had turned the lights on and Jess found the kitchen as minimalist as every other room she had seen in the house. From the door, she could see scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns, and pancakes and, oh man, she was really fucking hungry.

Jess walked inside the mini kitchen and settled next to Barnes, raising her brows at him in greeting. "Smells good."

"Should taste better," Barnes said, flipping a pancake to cook its other side. There was a perfect, crispy ring around its edge. "You like orange juice?"

"Sure," Jess nodded. Barnes pointed at the fridge with his metal elbow. Jess walked over and spotted the half-filled bottle on the top shelf.

It was packed. Fruits and vegetables (a few Jess didn't even recognize) filled the bottom drawers with a rainbow assortment of juices, sodas, and power drinks lining the shelves. This couldn't have been their main fridge; that was downstairs.

At the clinking behind her, Jess turned to see Barnes plating up the food he had cooked. The serving plates sat on a dark wooden panel shining against the light of the kitchen.

Jess set the orange juice on the panel and took the pans from Barnes's hands. She left them at the sink, running some water to let them soak, as Barnes filled up a separate plate.

"For Clint," he said almost apologetically. Barnes pulled a jar from the pantry and sprinkled some chocolate chips on top of Clint's pancakes.

"That's nice," Jess nodded. "Mind if I get some, too?"

Barnes poured a few on top of their pancakes and clasped the jar closed before putting it away. With both hands, he lifted the panel from the counter and started for the door. Jess noticed a stack of plates holding a set of utensils and a pair of glass cups sitting on the corner of the counter. She grabbed them and hugged them to her chest before joining Barnes at the door.

"You good?" Barnes asked, nodding at her load.

"It's nothing," she replied almost rolling her eyes. He grunted briefly and led the way to the elevators with their breakfast perfectly balanced in hand.

They entered the elevator quietly and Jess had to squeeze in carefully to avoid knocking out their food from the slate. As the doors began to close, there was a short, but urgent beeping noise from above.

"It's alright, Asa," Barnes said to the air. Jess looked at him quizzically through the mirrored wall. His gaze went down to hers before flicking back up to the ceiling. "I grant her clearance."

"Clearance granted, Ms. Mendoza," a warm voice echoed in the tight space, making Jess jump in surprise. Good thing she was hugging the dishes close. "Glad to officially make your acquaintance."

"Um, okay," Jess said, staring blankly at the ceiling for a second. "Nice to meet you, too?"

Barnes huffed softly behind her and she turned her head to him as best she could.

"A.I.?"

"Yes."

"So, this must be the thing that does the thing you need without you having to do anything?"

"Inarticulate, but on point," Barnes nodded. He pointed his chin out as the doors started to open. "Mind the steps."

Jess turned, sunlight blinding her eyes as she carefully stepped out of the elevator. She covered her eyes with an arm, flinching at the glaring sun, and stepped to the side to let Barnes out as she adjusted to the brightness.

"What the fuck," Jess breathed, massaging her eyelids with her fingers.

"Shit, here," she heard Barnes mumble to her left. She felt the weight of the dishes lighten as Barnes slipped his flesh hand under them. How he was holding the dense wooden sheet with one hand and their dishes with the other without a single clink she had no idea.

With her other hand free, Jess covered her eyes completely, groaning at the soreness the light gave her.

"There's shade over there," Barnes said, probably pointing with his chin. Jess just nodded, ready to follow the sound of his footsteps. "You can—uh—hold on to my shirt."

"Oh, okay," Jess nodded again. The stinging was starting to subside, but her eyelids still felt too heavy to open all the way. She reached her hand out and grabbed at air before she felt the soft fabric of Barnes's shirt against his toned back. Her fingers picked at the fabric carefully, making sure not to stretch it too much. "Alright, I'm good."

Barnes moved slowly, guiding Jess to an area that grew colder and slightly darker. The different conditions gave Jess's eyes some relief and she finally opened them, slowly at first, before going painfully wide.

As much as it hurt, Jess kept her eyes open, taking in the sight before her. At this corner, the sun shined behind them, lighting up the jungle in a much softer light than she expected. The mist just barely reached the tops of the trees as it blanketed the jungle's floor from view. Jess could hear the early morning birds chirping their song even from the roof's high place above. It reminded her a little of her Mama's home, but the green and shy, but evident life wasn't as abundant as this.

Her gaze drifted to the mountains in the distance, the source of the mist. She could see something dark and shiny near the foot of the peak, the rear jutting out of the clouds.

Her eyes fixed on the monument, Jess pointed and asked, "Is that the statue?"

"Yeah," Barnes affirmed. Jess turned to him as he set the block on a wooden frame. She took their dishes from his hand and began to set them on their makeshift table. Barnes pulled out two chairs from behind a wall of small palms that blocked the glare of the sun. He set them where Jess placed each dish so that they could admire the view with a small turn of their head.

Jess studied their breakfast a little too much as Barnes scratched the back of his head quietly, staring at a chair. He took a small cough and pulled it out as he motioned for Jess to take a seat.

"Oh, thank you," Jess breathed. She plopped herself down on the angled lawn chair, her butt sitting awkwardly at its edge. Barnes sat on his own chair across from her, his bigger body filling up its space.

Once he settled, Jess helped herself to everything, not minding to grab ladlefuls as Barnes had made so much. As she poured Barnes a glass of orange juice, she couldn't help but notice how different he looked. Not in a bad way, far from it. He looked a bit tense, probably worried about the mission as she was. Except these were people he loved who loved him back.

He wore his hair down so it brushed his shoulders when he dipped his head to his plate. His crisp, white t-shirt hugged his torso nicely; it would've made anyone with a faint heart swoon at the sight. The jeans he wore hid the toned legs she had admittedly noticed the night before. To anyone with no knowledge of current events, he looked like that tough, but soft-hearted bad boy a TV mom would never approve of.

Jess chuckled at the thought. Bad boy, James Buchanan Barnes was not. Monotone, awkward, and shit-eatingly sarcastic, he was. But also sweet, polite, and patient, which is why Jess didn't mind at all he was the one to be left behind with her.

"It's a beautiful place, Wakanda," she began, trying to put her focus elsewhere. "People always thought it was a desert." She shrugged. To be fair, the country had isolated itself from the world, so who really knew what the country was like. The only word about Wakanda came from random, shady white dudes that probably shouldn't be trusted anyways.

"People tend to be wrong," Barnes shrugged. He was quieter, now. Jess felt a divide between them. There was a wall put up and she wasn't the one who built up the bricks.

"Well, you can't blame them when they're being lied to," Jess defended casually, popping a chocolate chip in her mouth. It melted the second it hit her tongue, coating it in sweet-choco goodness.

"I suppose not," he nodded, taking a gulp of his orange juice. Some of it dripped from the side of his mouth and he sighed, patting a napkin at it.

"Do you explore it often?" Jess asked, curious about what lay hidden in the jungle. There could be entire species of animals no one else knows about. There could be castles! There was a king after all.

"Not really."

Oh.

"Busy low-key saving the world?" Jess tried, prodding her pancakes with some urgency.

"We're not really allowed to," Barnes explained with a shrug. "Best not expose ourselves."

"That sucks," Jess breathed. At the raise of his brow, she shook her head. "You're already stuck here and you can't even explore here?" Her expression must have been amusing because Barnes chuckled lightly.

"It's not that bad," he assured before shoving a forkful of hash browns into his mouth.

Jess shook her head quickly. "No, sorry, I didn't mean it like that, it's just, a little freedom would be nice I think."

Jess swallowed at the bite of pancake she had been chewing. She picked at her syrup soaked pancake with her fork, cringing at how she may have insulted him.

As secluded as their place was here, Barnes's home in Wakanda must have been a dream compared to what he's had to face. She knew how terrible conditions at Hydra could be and she was only there for a year, not seventy. At least here he was safe. At least here he had friends.

Speaking of friends, Jess strained her ear against the sound of the jungle. A low humming noise came from her right and Jess spotted something emerging from the clouds. It reflected the light of the sun at first before small panels flipped to reveal a black jet heading straight for them.

"Clint," said Barnes, noticing the jet as it started up a downwind. As it neared them, the humming got louder, but not as much as Jess expected. From the windows of the cockpit, Clint waved once and the jet began a steeper descent.

"Oh, boy," Jess muttered. She waved once at the archer and attempted a smile. He probably didn't see, he's piloting a jet after all.

The jet hovered at an angle before surging forward, entering the building where Jess couldn't see. The breeze lifted and Jess heard a sharp whoosh. Probably their jet garage closing. Jess dreaded the idea of having to go downstairs and running into Clint. He seemed so pleasant when they first met, but he completely went sour last night. Maybe something was going on with him.

Nevertheless, she'd rather stay up here with the fresh air and the much more pleasant, but kinda confusing James Buchanan Barnes.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Already did."

Jess narrowed her eyes at the retort with a smirk. "When you got your autonomy back, was it like becoming Bucky Barnes again? Or was it the same?"

Barnes paused for a moment and Jess stopped her chewing, afraid she finally asked a question that went too far. She did that sometimes.

"I don't know. I haven't figured that part out, yet," Barnes said finally.

Jess's heart dropped a little at this and couldn't help but meet his eyes. "It's hard to if you're cooped up here. Not that this is a bad place to be stuck in, don't get me wrong, but you're definitely limited on life experiences."

"Did you change?"

Jess stopped chewing on her pancakes for a second before swallowing hard. Barnes asked the question carefully and Jess knew he had to muster up a bit of courage to.

"A little. Knowing what people really think about you, it makes you a little more self-aware. I try to turn it off," Jess answered, waving her hand like there was a switch at her head.

"Were people worse or better than you thought?" Barnes asked even more quietly. Maybe he was asking the question for himself.

"Both. But, to be honest, more of the worse than the better," Jess admitted. When she started to read people, she found their true thoughts. For some she was pleasantly surprised, but for others? Well, her Ma was completely right about a few so-called friends and family of hers. "I tried to not let it change anything, but it's hard, you know?"

"If only people were completely honest in the first place," Barnes nodded, offering her another scoop of eggs. Jess frowned, not at the eggs, they were delicious, but at what Barnes said. She hadn't been completely honest with him.

"Yeah, I guess," she breathed, putting on a weak smile. She never mentioned her mother. She never mentioned she once had a good life with her. She never mentioned her getting in touch with Rex.

Barnes dumped the scrambled eggs on her plate before getting his own helping.

"Listen," Jess started, dropping her fork and forgetting about her plate. "I haven't been completely open with you—any of you—"

Jess watched for Barnes's reaction, but he only flicked his eyes over to her briefly before returning to his food. Was that good? Or did he already suspect? Of course he must have, she was an idiot to think she could go over their heads. Wanda must have at least seen something about Ma and must have told the others.

"I think—I think I got in contact with Rex yesterday. When you found me on the floor."

Barnes looked up at her, his eyes wide, and Jess flinched a little. He swallowed and wiped his mouth, rising from his seat so quickly he knocked some of Jess's orange juice onto her plate. His eyes went wild from a moment before settling on Jess.

"We need to tell the others," he said simply. He motioned for her to get up and Jess followed him to the elevator. His shoulders tensed as he walked. Jess could see them rise and fall a little too high and a little too low.

The elevator arrived right as they reached the steps and Barnes let Jess inside first.

"I didn't mean to—do you think they're in danger?" Jess asked, a tight knot forming at her throat. Does this mean it was a trap? Did they let Rex hear false information knowing it'll find it's way to her?

"I don't know," Barnes said coldly. "But it's something." He avoided her eyes and kept his forward. Jess wanted to smack herself. Why had she kept this information from them? It might have sent Wanda, Sam, and the others to a death trap.

"Oh my god," Jess gasped, clutching at her stomach. "I fucked up." She felt the tears start to well up in her eyes and she had to keep from crying right then and there.

"Come on," Barnes said, ordering Jess to follow him. They arrived at the bedroom floor and Jess heard a noise at the end of the hall.

"Barton?" Barnes barked and Clint walked into their view, chowing down the breakfast Barnes prepared for him.

"'Sup?" Clint greeted before his expression turned flat at Jess. Clint's eyes shifted back to Barnes and he frowned. "What's wrong, boss?"

"We got some intel coming in," Barnes answered, pushing past him. She glanced at Clint apologetically, but continued to follow Barnes closely. "Asa, direct call to Steve."

A hologram popped up from nowhere in front of Barnes, following him into a living room. A large table sat in the center surrounded the three large couches. Barnes motioned for Jess to take a seat in the middle and the hologram settled right above the table. Barnes sat next to her and Jess felt Clint standing behind them.

"You'll have to explain," Barnes said, nodding at the blue light. He didn't seem very angry, but he wasn't too happy with her either.

Jess nodded quickly before shifting her gaze to the hologram at the sound of a beep.

"Bucky?!" Steve hollered. A perfect close up of his face squinted at Jess and the men. He was panting and dirtied up with a boxed beard rounding out his jaw. "Not the time!" he grunted before his face scrunched up. With a huff, it relaxed as they heard a crunching punch.

"Jess got in contact with that friend of hers last night," Barnes pressed, looking alarmed at the sight of Steve. His beard was a little unnerving.

Jess knew not to waste time. Steve was in the middle of a fire fight.

"Rex warned me yesterday that the Pirogovs knew where I am," Jess explained quickly, trying to sound apologetic in tone. "They said they were coming for me."

Steve continued to focus on something they couldn't see. With a few more determined grunts, he relaxed, but continued to go on the move. His image darkened slightly like he had found shade.

"Activate all the security protocols," Steve heaved, his eyes nearly rolling into his head from exhaustion. "They weren't here. The Pirogovs weren't here."

"Fuck," Barnes breathed. His eyes were wild, conflicted, but he nodded at Steve. "Get everyone back here, now."

"We'll try."

"For fuck's sake, Steve," Barnes hissed. Steve's eyes met Barnes and Jess felt another tug to her heart. What the fuck has she done?

"I'll see you soon, Bucky." With that, the call ended and Steve disappeared.

Jess felt Clint stir behind her. "I'll do it, boss," he said before giving Jess a dirty look and turning to leave.

"Thank you, Clint." Barnes stared straight ahead, mulling over something in his head silently. Jess could only look at her wringing hands, watching each tear drop fall pathetically to her fingers.

"They're coming here," Jess said quietly, dread rising slowly within her. "I fucked up. It was a trap. They're coming."

"It was a solid lead; there must have been something there waiting," Barnes reasoned out from their call with Steve. "But if they are coming, we have to be ready."

"Whatever you need me to do, I'll do it," Jess offered. "I'll leave, I can lead them away."

"And what? You'll die when they catch up to you," Barnes said, his gaze shifting to her.

"It'll get them away from you and the others," Jess reasoned. She wiped at her wet face and looked up at Barnes. "I did this to you all, I'll keep them away."

Barnes let out and empty chuckle as he rose from the couch. "As noble as that sounds, they're coming for me, too. I'd like to take 'em down once and for all."

Jess sighed and shook her head. "What do we do? How can we take them down, just the three of us?"

Clint hollered from outside the lounge. "Hey! I singlehandedly took down a squadron of killer robots with like three arrows!" He actually sounded hurt and pissed.

"We know Clint," Barnes called back, rolling his eyes. He turned back to Jess and nodded at the door. "There's a panic room at the lower levels. You can stay there for now."

Jess frowned up at Barnes and crossed her arms. "No, if they come, I'm helping you."

"Jessabell, you don't know how to fight, yet."

"And you don't know how to deal with a telepath and electrokinetic. No offense, but I think I'm inherently better equipped for this than you or Clint," she pointed out, quirking a brow at him. "By the way, now I know you went easy on me last night."

Jess frowned at him more and Barnes shrugged awkwardly.

"It was a morale boost," he tried, shrugging his shoulders through his tight t-shirt. Jess sighed and stood up from her seat before raising up a fist and playfully pushing it at his shoulder. The action felt awkward and she cringed a little at Barnes's confused reaction.

"Well, it must've worked because I'm going to have to help," Jess said as she pulled back her arm to her side. At Barnes's disapproving look, pursed lips and frown and all, Jess groaned. "Barnes, you know I'll just get pulled into the fight."

"I won't try to throw fists, just my powers," Jess promised, raising her pinkie up to Barnes. He stared at it before sighing and pushing it with his palm.

"Yeah, sure," he agreed. Jess breathed a sigh of relief, wiping away at the last of her tears. He made his way to the door and motioned for her to follow. "Better get suited up."

Jess's mouth dropped. A superhero suit? On her? At least there's one good thing coming out of this. Do they just have extra costumes lying around? She'd hate to have to borrow Wanda's things again.

"Yeah, your dream come true, let's go," Barnes hurried, pointing his metal thumb at the door. "Better get ready before Clint finds out."

"Right." Jess leapt over the couch and joined Barnes at the door. She followed him at his side, having to quicken her pace to keep up with his long strides. "Listen, I'm sorry for not telling anyone about it."

Barnes nodded, "Don't worry about it." Jess frowned. He needed to stop doing this.

"You can't just keep excusing every thing I've done," Jess muttered. It's unfair she was forgiven so easily. What she had done was wrong, she knew this, why was it so easily dismissed?

"You want me to be angry?" Barnes asked, turning his gaze to her. He slowed his gait down as they reached the elevator. As usual, Asa opened it and gave them just enough time to step in before the doors slid closed.

"No, well yes, but—" Jess shook her head. "The point is I fucked up."

"Yes, several times," Barnes nodded. "Welcome to the club."

Jess looked up at Barnes, surprised. She met his eyes and found them tired and soft.

"Point is, we're going to fix it," he said with a shrug. With a turn of his lips, Barnes shifted his gaze to the mirrored doors. Jess studied him for a moment as they neared the training room where they sparred the night before. She couldn't come up with something to say.

We. We're going to fix it. She hadn't had a whole lot of we's in a long time.

There was an unnecessarily loud ding and the doors opened, revealing the familiar room. Barnes turned to the left and pressed his palm against a wall. Another hidden room?

The wall pushed itself out and released a draft, revealing a smaller room as the panel slid away. Stalls stood in the middle of the suit room that offered privacy to change. It smelled of leather and metal.

"Whoa," Jess breathed. Sleek black suits lined the walls of the room, shining under a dim white light. Each was different, tailored to fit each rogue Avenger and fugitive, but maintained the same aesthetic. They were lined with something metallic and looked unused.

Jess jogged up to the far end and pulled a suit off its hook. It looked a little too big, but it was the closest size she could find for her frame. "Wanda won't mind, right?"

"No," Barnes answered, the corner of his mouth turning up again as he made his way over to her. "Clint might."

Jess eyed the fabric. It was a jumpsuit. She looked up at Barnes and couldn't help but laugh. "Alright, I wouldn't want to ruin his clubbing outfit," she quipped with a cringe.

"Nah, take it," Barnes said. "Never uses it." He turned away and pulled at a drawer under another jumpsuit. This one had a coat with a maroon lining at the hems. So, that's Wanda's.

Barnes pulled out a pair of heavy-duty boots and placed them on Jess's arms. As tough and rugged as they looked, they were light and she could barely feel the prick of the cleats.

"Anything else?" Jess questioned, eyeing the other suits to check for any more cool accessories. One suit had a pair of goggles hanging over it. They would've been useful up on the roof. "Like some high-tech googles?"

Barnes followed her eyesight and sighed. "Those are Sam's. The one thing I don't mess with."

"Oh, right," Jess nodded. She probably shouldn't mess with someone who's more or less on her side. Clint, on the other hand.

"You want gloves?" Barnes offered, slapping a pair against his flesh hand. "They're lined with vibranium, so they pack a punch."

"Vibranium?"

"Strongest—weirdest metal on Earth," Barnes explained. She's heard of it before, but never actually seen it in use. He tossed the gloves at her and Jess caught them with the boots she balanced on her arms.

"Thanks," Jess mumbled. She turned from Barnes and entered a stall, locking it behind her with a click. She hugged her new outfit close, afraid she'll drop what probably cost hundreds of thousands of dollars to make. Being a superhero looked pretty damn expensive.

"Who pays for all this?" Jess asked. The stall didn't have a whole lot of room, but there was a shelf above a wide mirror to hold her clothes. Getting out of her blouse and trousers was the easy part. Getting into this jumpsuit is going to be a whole other story.

"Uh, Wakanda," Barnes answered, his voice muffled by the door separating them.

"Ah, so the King? King T'Challa?" Jess guessed. She narrowed her eyes at the jumpsuit. The zipper was at the side, not on the back like she expected. Hopefully, Clint was a little curvier than he looked.

"Uh, no?"

"Barnes." She rolled her eyes at the mirror as she tugged on the zipper. "Who am I going to tell?"

"Read my mind then."

"I won't do that to you, people have messed with you enough," Jess replied, her voice strained. Sucking in a breath, Jess pulled the zipper hard over her hip. "Not that I'd mess with your head," she choked out, "but I'm guessing any telepathy would suck."

"What about the dream?" asked Barnes, sounding concerned. A few more tugs and the zipper complied, closing the suit over her skin smoothly.

"That was needed and totally called for," Jess replied, sounding a little disbelieving at herself. The jumpsuit fit just fine by the hems, but they were some patches where the fabric was a little too loose. Whatever, it'll ventilate the inevitable sweat. "I mean totally could've gone better, but I had a lot of distractions at the time."

The boots slipped on easily and Jess double knotted the pair before slipping the gloves over her dry hands. She gathered up her other clothes and wrapped them into a ball, flinching as she realized the possible wrinkles later on. Sorry, Wanda. Duty calls.

"Okay, let's go," Jess said, pushing the door open. She whipped her head around and saw Barnes back by the wall-door-thing. Jess noticed he was fighting back a smirk. Okay, she couldn't look that ridiculous. "It's a little loose."

"Here," he chuckled. Barnes motioned for her to turn around. "Do you—uh—mind?" He nodded at the back of her neck and Jess reached around to push her hair out of the way. She felt a gentle push and the suit let out a breath before the fabric tightened around her body. Jess smoothed her hand over her stomach. Not a single wrinkle. It fit perfectly.

"Damn, where was this during prom night?" Jess muttered to herself.

"Better?" Barnes asked. Jess let her hair go and turned to him with a nod.

"I guess I'm not getting a gun, then?" she joked, motioning at the weapons displayed to her right. The mats had been put away, leaving the space open except for the boxing stand she had used as a shield the night before. "It might just freak Clint out even more."

"Yeah, well, he'll deserve it," mumbled Barnes as he went down the steps towards the training room. Jess followed, but stopped at the edge, and watched Barnes pick out his weapons. He headed for a set of knives first, packing them into a duffel bag. Then, he stuffed a pair of Glocks into his pockets, a furrowed brow giving away his apprehension.

The sight made Jess frown. Here was a man, clad in just a t-shirt and hipster-worn jeans, getting ready to possibly battle it out with some overpowered Neo-Nazis. Sickos who were a part of an institution that used him, mutilated him, abused him, took away his sense of self to do their bidding. And she forced him to face them again even though he was safe here, finally away from the evil that took his life away.

"Hey," Barnes called. "You're doing it again." He threw a few boxes of ammo into his bag and zipped it closed. His soft eyes took hers and he walked up to her, shaking his head.

"Doing what?" Jess asked, crossing her arms at him. She straightened herself up as he came to a stop and she raised her brow.

Barnes let out a breathy laugh and crossed his own arms. They were fucking huge.

"Guilt," he said simply. "Yeah, we're in this because of you. But we're in this because of me, too. We all chose to get involved. Mulling on who to put the blame on does nothing."

Jess pressed her lips into a thin line, saying nothing, but looking disbelieving.

"We'll fix it, Jessabell."

"I know," Jess nodded. "I just can't shake it off so easily, you know?"

"I know," he said gently, the corner of his mouth pulling up. "Come on, I gotta lock this place up." Jess pushed herself off the wall and this time Barnes followed. Before stepping into the elevator, he tapped at an arbitrary place at the wall and pressed his flesh hand against it. Everything began to secure itself at once. Layers of metal grates, laser bars, and a glowing blue screen locked the weapons, vehicles, and the rooms themselves before a solid black wall descended upon each side, hiding everything from view.

"Update, Asa," ordered Barnes to the AI.

"All systems secured, Mr. Barnes," Asa responded. "C-squad dispatched on patrol."

Did they have bodyguards? It wouldn't be too surprising, Wakanda must have kept a close eye on the fugitives so long as they hid in their country.

"Okoye was informed?"

"Okoye dispatched C-squad. I'd like to add she is not too pleased with this news," Asa imparted, actually sounding nervous. "Though, and I quote, 'Not surprised. It was bound to happen.'"

"Fantastic," Barnes murmured. When Jess looked at him questioningly, he shook his head. "She never liked us very much."

"Dead-weights, I believe was the term she used, sir."

"Yeah, thanks, Asa," Barnes grumbled. The elevator took them back to the bedroom floor. There were a lot of back and forths today.

They stepped out quickly, the doors sliding shut behind them faster than usual.

"So, what now?" Jess asked, walking in stride with him.

"Now, we wait," Barnes answered. "You like Mario Kart?"

\---

Bucky usually went for a run to relax, but rounding the bunker in open air right now wasn't a good idea. A mind busy and ridden with guilt and anxiety wasn't good before a fight, so he had to find a way to calm her down. Even with their bickering and murder threats, Clint and Scott always seemed to be in high spirits after a few hours of Mario Kart.

Bucky led Jessabell back to the lounge where they kept the game console Scott smuggled into the country. Primitive tech, or really just any tech outside of Wakanda, didn't fare well with customs.

Jessabell waited quietly on the couch as Bucky set up the game, a glint of excitement in her eyes.

"I haven't played in so long," she said with a smile.

"Good, now I've got a chance," Bucky quipped, pushing himself off the floor. He had changed hurriedly into his combat clothes before they headed to the lounge. His weapons were tucked into every open pocket he had. Adjusting one of the knives digging into his thigh, Bucky settled on the couch next to Jessabell.

Jessabell took her remote from his metal hand and connected to the console. Now, he had to be player two. Player two, as Scott knew and maintained, had a terrible track record.

Jessabell knew instantly which character and vehicle to go for. Toad sat in his blue Bullet Bike, jumping up and down in his seat impatiently as Bucky frowned at Bowser's vehicle collection.

"Bowser sucks, no offense," Jessabell piped up. At his furrowed brow and frown, she shrugged and looked pointedly at the screen. "He does! He's heavy, he's a bully, you might as well quit now."

"Clint always suggests I play him," Bucky mumbled.

"Well, no offense," Jessabell said, her voice low. "Clint kinda seems like a dick." She held out her hand and Bucky dropped his remote onto it. He watched, his eyes going from her serious expression to the screen as she went through all the available characters.

"King Boo, Dry-Bones, and Yoshi are your best bets, I think," Jessabell advised. "At the end of the day it comes down to who you're comfortable with really." She knew her Mario Kart.

Bucky studied the characters she mentioned. "Yoshi it is," he nodded as the tiny green dinosaur punched the air. Bucky picked an arbitrary vehicle and set the game for three rounds, enough to keep their heads busy for a while. "Ready?"

"Hell yeah," Jessabell buzzed. She folded her legs under her, hunching over her remote with determination.

Bucky had already revved his engine up by the time the buzzer went off, holding him back as Jessabell and the other cars zipped away. Grunting, his Yoshi finally went off and Bucky struggled to steer the dinosaur as he wanted. He kept slamming into a wall at the sharp turns, sending the Mii audience jumping off their feet.

"Get your finger off the gas when you're turning," Jessabell advised, her eyes peeled on her side of the screen. "It's much smoother that way."

At the next turn, Bucky let off the gas button and leaned to the right. Sure enough, Yoshi swerved smoothly, passing Bowser and Wario with a gleeful howl.

"Yeah!" Jessabell yelped, beaming at him for a second before returning her eyes quickly to the screen. Yelps, squeaks, and grunts peppered the air as their first round came to a close. Jessabell's Toad danced to the finish line with a whoop, finishing fourth as his Yoshi trailed a few paces behind.

"You guys suck."

Jessabell leapt off the couch, her remote ready to be thrown, as Clint climbed off the shelf behind them. He cricked his neck to side as he stretched and asked, "Is that my suit?"

"Yes?" Jessabell lowered her arm, but still gripped the remote tightly. "It looked the most comfortable."

"Because it's mine," Clint said through gritted teeth.

Jessabell gave Clint a once over in his own suit. It was the first prototype from Shuri and Clint cherished it, refusing to use any other new suit that T'Challa's team sent.

"Well, I can change into someone else's suit," Jessabell nodded. She crossed her arms and pressed her lips into a thin, forced smile as she tilted her head to angle with Clint's. "But I never believed in giving in to childish demands."

"Bucky!"

"Clinton?" Bucky teased, throwing his metal arm over the couch to turn and get a better look at him. At the archer's sharp breath and murder stare, Bucky sighed. "Dude, it's just a suit. You didn't even like it."

"That's not the point!"

"It is." Bucky clenched his fist and bumped it against the frame of the couch. "Get over it, man."

Clint eyed Jessabell and turned to leave the room in a huff. He dragged his bow behind him, the metal end scraping against the wooden floor.

Bucky glanced back at Jessabell who just frowned at Clint's back, looking more upset than angry. She tapped the remote against a gloved hand and returned to her seat next to Bucky.

"Don't take it personally," Bucky assured, staring at the floor. A dark spot tried to hide under the corner of the coffee table. Under the sole of his booted foot, the carpet there felt stiff and sticky. He'll clean it up later.

"Seems kinda personal," Jessabell muttered. She flipped the control from one hand to the other, tossing it absentmindedly. "I doubt he's always that unpleasant."

"Yeah, but, I don't know," Bucky searched for the words. There was a lot on Clint's mind. The hunt for his best friend sent her further on the down low, limiting communications between Natasha and the team to priority intel dumps. After Berlin, Clint's status forced his family into exile. The locations were so sensitive he only ever stayed the night, leaving the next morning for the next mission one country over. It had been a while since he's seen them. Not that it excused his behavior. Scott, in all his ridiculousness, was only ever friendly and welcoming to Jessabell. Even Sam let his doubts about her go, if not after some intensive convincing from Wanda.

"It's fine, Barnes. I won't be staying long, anyways."

"I suppose," Bucky nodded. Their game beeped, asking if they were ready to start the next round. Jessabell hadn't noticed. Or she ignored it. "So, you chose a place to stay, yet?"

"Home," Jessabell said simply. "I—um." She paused, her brows knitting together, considering something for a moment. Bucky pressed the off button on his control, turning off the console and TV quietly.

"I want to go back as me," she explained. "Not as anyone else. Otherwise, I feel like the Pirogovs won."

Bucky nodded, thumbing the velvet of the couch. He never got to do that, but at least she has the chance to. Not that it mattered. There was only one person in the world who had a clue who Bucky Barnes was. Now that punk was out there with his friends fighting a fight that wasn't theirs.

"Do you—" Jessabell stopped herself. Bucky met her cautious eyes and he nodded once, urging her to continue. Seems like she liked talking things out more than getting distracted.

"Do you have plans once you and Steve and the others get out of here?"

Bucky chuckled at the question. That idea never even occurred to him. What life could he live outside of Wakanda? Certainly, he can't be free. That was out of the question. The U.N. might just bring him in eventually. Maybe get a trial, if he's lucky. In any case, he'll end up in prison for life. There was no way a pardon could be put on the table. Not after what the Winter Soldier had done.

"Barnes?"

Bucky whipped his head up to Jessabell. Her call, meek and cracked, sent a chill through Bucky's body. She just sat there, palm over her temple, as she stared off into nothing. Her bottom lip twitched. Her breaths became quick and sharp.

"They're here."


End file.
